By The Sword
by Nightheart
Summary: Demoted to no-rank for abandoning his post to accompany Rukia to Hueco Mundo, Renji stumbles across an unexpected secret. Meanwhile Rukia and Byakuya Kuchiki deal with power struggles among the nobility... when the Sword of Genbu Chooses the next head of the North Clan. Cannon divergence, pre time-skip.
1. Chapter 1

**I've had this rotting on my hard-drive since probably chapter 395, it was the next major stort I started after I got most of the way through Chasing Shadows. It's actually two stories, or rather two distinctive ideas I had been toying with at the time and neither of them was working alone so I tried putting them together and they worked! Unfortunately it was one of those things... I was never quite satisfied with it so it never got posted. I thought I'd try it here to see if there was any interest. Let me know what you think.**

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Just because he knew why they'd had to do it, didn't make it any easier to take.

"_Reaper_ Abarai," he muttered bitterly under his breath.

The trip to Hueco Mundo with Rukia to go and rescue Orihime Inoue had been not only unauthorized, but actually forbidden. He and Rukia had been personally fetched back by Captain's Kuchiki and Zaraki to gear up,along with the rest of the Seireitei for the upcoming war. That they had chosen to follow thier own path was on them.

Everything was still being sorted out from that long terrible war. Aizen's Rebellion, also being called the "Winter War" There were a lot of soldiers who hadn't made it back. Eleventh was missing a fair-sized chunk of its lower-level forces, a third of First, Fifth and Tenth had bit it in a trap set by Aizen to whittle down thier forces; they'd recived word of a force of arrancars deciding to launch a surprise strike on one of the remote outposts in HM, and had gone in to make a pre-emptive strike, except that the network of caves that they had supposedly been hiding out in had been rigged with a series of traps, no-one had made it out alive. Eighth had lost a lot of seated officers in a raid early on in the ground war. So had Ninth, and Thirteenth, Renji would be happy to hear the sound of squabbling from that squad again if it would mean that Sentaro would still be alive. There had been casualties even among the first and second seats in the squads as well.

"Momo..." he said sadly as he stood in stoic greif. Nothing was going to be the same anymore.

He sensed the presence of now-Captain Hisagi walking upthe hill behind him. Kira's grave was located in his family plot, in a place of honor, where he would be remembered. They'd both bought it in the last battle; Momo had faced her former Captain and former love and been killed by him, Kira had avenged her. They'd both died but not before Renji and Zabimaru (with the brat's help,) had managed to help the other Captains to land the killing stroke.

"This should never have happened," Hisagi said, looking at her memorial picture of the young woman.

"She chose to fight, just the same as the rest of us," Renji said roughly, unwilling to sully her memory with pity.

Pity was what you felt for people who'd had no choice, like his friends in Rukongai, they'd had no chance of escaping thier deaths there on the streets, a warrior always made thier own choices. She had died well, in such a way that no-one would ever call her weak again. He was glad of that but at the same time... Renji was sad that she was gone.

They'd come there every day since the war had officially ended a month ago, each trying to find solace in a world that was very different from the world they'd lived in before the war. For one thing, there were a lot of new names and faces within the ranks; fresh faced little boys and girls just out of the academy. Everything seemed different, and not just his demotion either. There was a feeling of "so now what?" around many of the squad halls and most of them were getting used to new commanders. There had been a sea change there in the Seireitei.

Captain Yamamoto had been poaching among the more promising upper officers of the various squads, sniping long-time subordinate memebrs with the potential for excellent leadership skills to become the new Captains. Hisagi, naturally, was now the official Captain of Ninth, but he had yet to pick a second-in-command. Fifth squad, missing both its Captain and its Lieutenant, had been given over to the former Lieutenant Nanao Ise (over Shunsui Kyoraku's vehemently vocal protests). Third Squadron, also known as Despair, had been reluctantly taken over by the infamous top duo of Eleventh Squad; now-Captain Ikkau Madarame and his new Lieutenant Yumichika Ayasegawa (Renji had heard the wild rumor that they'd tried to refuse the honor and Captain Zaraki had told them he'd only let them do so if they could defeat him, they hadn't, so they were stuck for it). Eighth had a new lieutenant, a man this time, another studious sort to do all of Kyoraku's paperwork no doubt. And all the rest of the squads had suffered losses within the ranks and were trying to refill their missing personal from the war with noobs fresh out of the academy. As for Renji, he was a bit at loose ends with what to do with himself now that he wasn't even a Seated Officer. Sixth had a new Vice Captain and Renji detested the guy (and not only just because he had taken his spot). The new Vice Captain, Morii Korin, was about as big a prat as they came, and there was something about him that Renji instinctively didn't like, or rather, didn't trust.

"Heard you got assigned to the Front ," Hisagi said, more to fill the silence than anything.

"Yeah," Renji said. "I hate red-zone missions."

"Everyone does," Shuuhei replied.

Red-zone missions were those kinds of missions that existed in active battle zones. No-one liked getting assigned to them for obvious reasons; for one thing, they were dangerous. Nothing spawned Hollows of the most viscious sort quite like the horrible things that happened on a battle zone, or even worse, a massacre site. The welter of hated and fear and anger there among the fighters and fallen could create resentment among the newly dead, which in turn created the most terrible Hollows. A Reaper had to be constantly on his guard when assigned to Red-zone missions. It was enemy territory. Until Renji had run up against an Arrancar, he'd never encountered a Hollow as viscious as the ones that appeared in the Red-zones.

The other facet of Red-zone missions that were difficult for even the most experienced reapers to deal with was the... the horror of war. To say that war was hell was in no way an exaggeration. People didn't just die, they died horribly, and tried to terrible things to other humans before they went. They'd gladly hackoff limbs, fill one another full of little pellets of metal from thier guns, send biological weapons that did excruciatingly painful things to thier gigai's, and that didn't even count the methodical torture of the body that took place in a lot of the more primative prison camps. Neither did it count the terrible way that people could be rounded up like so many sheep and then simply methodically slaughtered like cattle and buried in mass graves.

All of them were terrible, but the battlefeilds were probably the worst, just the sheer senseless and needless destructuion, people dying in thier own blood and the churned up mud, partially mangled corpses littering the ground, the sheer noise; screamsof the dying and the wounded, of weapons being deployed or going off around them. It was hellish in every sense of the word. One of the worst parts about it was when a soldeir was newly killed unexpectedly; they just sort of looked down at thier bodies in a sort of shocked disbelief. What was really sad were the ones that kept trying to report in, trying to get back into thier shells so they could go help thier buddies, or make it back to thier loved ones. The konsai ritual was always something of a relief for those ones. As for the rest...

Renji sighed, not looking forward to his next mission, so he turned his mind away from it to focus on other things. His recent demotion was like a poison-tipped barb in his pride, making him question himself. He didn't regret his decision to follow her into Hueco Mundo exactly, he knew that, given the same situation he'd do it again without hesitation because it was the right thing to do. And knew going into it that Kuchiki was going to have to punish him, Renji was surprised the Captain had held out for so long in fact, but at the same time, he had worked soo hard!

Rukia had more or less gotten a slap on ther writsts for disobeying an order and heading to Hueco Mundo on her own. Her dear brother had expressed his disapproval at her for her recklessness, but everyone could tell that underneath it all he'd been simply glad she'd made it out alive. Her own Captain, Ukitake, was inclined to be lenient. Renji didn't have the same luxuries.

He had worked so damned _hard_ to gain his rank...

But it was because he was an upper-level officer, one rank below the highest rank that a Reaper could attain in the Seireitei, that he'd been punished so severely. For one thing, he he wasn't noble so there was no-one in the background to speak for him, no-one to pull strings or drop names or whisper in ears to get his sentence lessened. Secondly, his Captain was a stickler for the rules, and because he'd had to compromise so much for his sister, he'd had to save face by showing that he would not tolerate insubordination from his underlings.

That was why Renji had been divested of his rank. He was no-longer Sixth Squad Lieutenant Renji Abarai, he wasn't even Twentieth Seat (which he had graduated right out of the Academy into) he was merely Reaper Abarai, a common Reaper with no rank or status. After everything he'd done, after how hard he'd worked, he was now not only back where he'd started from, but actually doing _worse_. He could have handled that just fine; sure he would have been upset, but he understood why they'd done it, he'd have just picked himself up and started climbing the ranks again. Except now...

Renji felt his chest clench in helpless agony and his soul writhed around in his skin. Rukia was to marry someone else and there was not a damned thing Renji could do about it. The ranks of the Seireitei were not the only things changing, a grand council of all the noble families had been called to decide upon the new members of Central Forty-Six, and he'd heard that the ensuing power struggle resembled a tank full of pirhana's with a bloody chop thrown in it. It made him glad that he wasn't a nobleman, because politics really wasn't his thing; he was just too straightforward for that nonsense. Kuchiki, being the last Head of one of the Four Noble Clans still living in the Seireitei, was up in the politics right up to his aristocratic chin. There were a number of nobles that would give thier eye-teeth to marry into all that wealth and privalage, and both Kuchiki's, it being just after war-time, were considered eminently on the market. The scuttlebutt around the Seireitei was that the Kuchiki Elders were weiging over who it was best to marry her off to.

It would have been business as usual for the two of them most likely, except that there was a young man from one of the lesser branches of the final Noble House, the one that wasn't Shihouin, Shiba or Kuchiki (Renji couldn't recall the name right off the top of his head since he didn't keep up on things like that) that stood a good chance of becoming the successor once the Elder Head of the Clan finally kicked over.

By all accounts he was a fine and upstanding young man, an able politician and a commanding leader but Renji had also heard _other_ rumors about him... that he had led and in-House insurrection and coup d'etat against his own Noble Family and that he was devious and ambitious. Still, Renji thought that the elder Kuchiki might have little choice but to bow to politics then because the lesser houses were gaining more power and influence by manuvering to fill Central Forty-Six with thier candidates this time. There was even some crazy talk about engaging poor Rukia to that idiot Ganju Shiba! Renji shuddered, Rukia would fight it tooth and nail and if they did force it on her, he didn't lay long odds on the prospective bride-groom lasting through the wedding night... intact that was. Still, it was pretty much a forgone conclusion now that the younger (adopted and disposable) member of the Kuchiki Clan would be sold off into marriage to someone, and that someone wouldn't be him.

The Captain of Sixth Squadron hadn't been seen within the walls of his own Squad Hall for weeks. By all accounts the Squad was being all but run by the new asshole because the presence of the Head of Clan Kuchiki was required at every single one of those meetings of the Nobility, and they went from dawn until late in the evening if not the night.

:_And more power to him_,: Renji thought with a small pang of sympathy for his boss.

He couldn't imagine many things that were worse than being cooped up with a bunch of bickering, power-hungry, conniving old men all trying to argue, manuver and manipulate thier way into more power. It made Renji very glad that he was a simple soldier, he'd take a battelfeild full of Hollows over than nonsense any day!

But still, the fact that he wasn't nobility of any sort meant that the little he did have to offer as a potential suitor for Rukia, his (former) rank within the soldeiry of the Seireitei, was of little value when compared to a potentially very advantageous marriage-alliance.

No rank, not even the hope of a someday with the one he'd loved for as long as he could remember, Momo was dead, Kira was dead, and to top it off, he was assigned to red-zone missions for the foreseeable future.

"You gonna be okay man?" Shuuhei asked.

:_No, you know I really don't think I am this time_,: Renji thought dimly.

Always before he'd had _hope_. He'd had the hope of climbing to a place where he could be by her side again and all would be right with his world, but now, he wouldn't even have that luxury; someone else had well and truly stolen the place he'd always thought was reserved only for him. It _hurt_. It hurt worse than anything he'd ever imagined.

"You know what they say," Renji lied with a wry grin. "Ya can't keep a good dog down."

Shuuhei looked relieved at his display of normal behavior (for Renji) and gave him a manly commiserating buffet on the shoulder and went his own way. Renji stood staring at her memorial portrait etched so carefully into the gold plate that bore her name and the post humous honors she'd been given for her sacrifice. Momo would have seen right through the lie but they'd been friends since the academy. He also had the feeling that she would have understood too, she would at least have had something to say about it; more often than not she had this way of putting things into perspective that had helped Renji see his way through a tangled up mass of problems and goals that seemed impossible. Kira too, his razor intelligence and calm (some might say _morose_) demeanor had always semed to make even the most impossible task seem commonplace. Renji wondered a little bit what he was supposed to do without them.

He was suddenly struck by an odd thought. Here he was, back on the bottom of the heap and he was already thinking about how long it was going to take him to climb back up... but now he had no reason to do so. Rukia was as good as married off, the Kuchiki Elders were only deciding on who it would be most benefial to have as the groom. His place was no longer at her side or at her back, those positions had been taken up by others and even Renji was too proud to accept being placed at her feet.

No home, no family, no star to guide him, his friends were dead, what did rank and status matter to him anymore?

_:I could just stay down here_,: Renji thought with a humor that was laced strongly with black despair. he had nothing anymore, no hope or anything to dream about.

:_It's just me an' Zabimaru_,: Renji thought.

His sword would never respect him if he didn't try to get a little stronger.

:_Well that's a hell of a conundrum_,: Renji muttered to himself.

He had no reason to get stronger anymore. There was no goal, nothing waiting for him at the end, no hope for the future so what was the point in making the climb. Being a lieuteneant had been awfully damned inconvenient most days, paperwork, and training, and thousands of irritating little tasks. The respect had been nice but... was it really worth it now?

:_Zabimaru's gonna think I'm a wimp_,: Renji thought.

The sword would probably be right too. But right then, Renji wasn't sure that he cared anymore if he was a wimp. He was just so fucking **_tired_**, tired of everything. Right then, he wasn't sure he had the strength to wake up and face another day, nevermind trying anything so ambitious as climbing ranks again. When he thought about all the madness of his first frantic dash to the top; the hours he'd spent honing his skills, training until he dropped only to haul himself up and do it all over again, the punishment of getting his ass beat day in and day out by taking on opponents way stronger than he was so that he could learn to fight properly... it all just made him feel exhausted.

:_Maybe I'll just stay down here a while_,: Renji thought whimsically.

He'd never been a no-rank Reaper before. He'd graduated from the academy with scores that were high enough to get him a seated position (he suspected that Aizen might have had something to do with it) right into Fifth Squad. Sure it had been twentieth Seat, the lowest ranked one, but it had still been a rank. He'd never once been no-rank, he'd always had responsibility.

:_Even before I entered the academy_,: he realized.

In Rukongai Renji had been the undeclared leader of their little gang. He'd been the one to organize when and how meals were stolen and water aquired, the one to defend thier flop against incursion, the one who tried to make sure that all of his people had what they needed to get by, the arbiter of disputes, the lead scout... it had fallen on Renji's younger shoulders when one of his own had come down sick or been caught in a raid. He'd looked after Rukia too, or at least tried to, in the Academy. He'd always had people looking to him, silently expecting him to think of a way through.

:_But now, I guess no-one exprects anything of me_,: Renji thought. His soul felt numb. It was such a new and strange concept.

:_Heh, I'm the only no-rank Reaper, aside of the substitute brat, that has a bankai!_: Renji thought torn between hysterical laughter and despair.

Still, it might be nice to have a break for a change. Let others do things for a while. Just take orders, no cares or responsibilites. So what if he'd get cleaning duty or something like that? It was a holiday compared to the crap he was used to putting up with. Maybe he'd just slack off for a while, kick back and just be a regular no-rank asshole with no pride or ambition. All the other losers seemed to like it well enough, and Renji had always been kinda curious as to how in the hell they could go through life with swords that were barely even shikai'ed and never want to be or do anything other than what they already were? It had never made any sense to Renji, who had always had responsibility and the ambition to be with Rukia. Now he had neither anymore and was at loose end for perhaps the first time in his life.

He didn't have to do anything or make anything out of himself; they'd still feed him as long as he did his job. There was no reason for him to climb up and he was tough enough that no-one would dare to try abusing him. He could just slack off.

Renji heard his sword grumble at this. This sort of nonsense was the exact _opposite_ of what Zabimaru wanted but now Renji was a little tickled by the notion. Recognized, deep down, that it was nothing more than a sign of him giving into depression, but he just could seem to muster up the energy to care.


	2. Chapter 2

The Audience Chamber was a circular, cavernous room with tiered stadium seating facing a central dais on which people she was supposed to be familiar with (but really only knew of from her lessons about the Seireitei nobility from her teachers in the Kuchiki Clan) made very, very long winded speeches. The tiered sections were split up basically along the ancient lines of duties and familial obligations that went back to the founding of the Seireitei. In her own section to the west was seated Clan Kuchiki; all of its Elders were present as well as the Clan Head (and herself as the nominal heir, though she could not actual because she was not Blood). In addition to that necessity were all of the heads of the vassal families that had sworn their allegiance to the Kuchiki Clan, and the heads of their vassal families, and their vassal's vassals, and their vassal's vassal's vassals and so on and so forth until all of the layers of the Seireitei nobility that had any tie to Kuchiki were represented. They filled up the entire section with fine silk robes and jewelry, each person affiliated with Clan Kuchiki wore the silver-grey and white of their fealty.

In the South was Kuukaku Shiba and her younger brother Ganju Shiba (sans Bonnie the Boar) and all of the nobility who swore or owed fealty and allegiance to them. Rukia could see the mixed feelings about the people who were running the show plainly on the faces of a large number of the nobility who ostensibly owed their allegiance to Clan Shiba (but had elected to remain in the Seireitei when the Head and her family had departed for the Rukon District). It seemed that there were less people in attendance to their ancient duties to their supposed First Clan, for the stands were only about three-fourths of the way filled with silk robes in colors of red and white in affiliation with Clan Shiba. The one-armed ruffian that Rukia had such a strained and guilt-ridden relationship with, looked far different wearing proper wrap-robes of fine silk with embroidered flames and sunbursts stitched in gold thread flowing across her chest and down over one shoulder to her knees. She sat looking serious and refined (an attitude that Rukia had not known the spitfire capable of assuming) surrounded by her twin bodyguards and her own vassal families.

To the East, Lady Shihouin was dressed in the full formal regalia of her station and looked every inch the well-groomed and proper noblewoman of the Four Noble Families... but in defiance of tradition she had her very improper husband perched right at her side, snoring away. Uruahara was craftier and more devious than all of those other nobles vying to put their men into place put together, and there was no doubt in Rukia's mind that if they had been of a mind to, they'd have simply dispensed with all of the nonsense and maneuvered a way into ending the meeting. Probably with a bang. A large part of Rukia very much wished they would. She and all of the reluctant vassal-families that swore their bonds of loyalty to the Shihouin Clan (and it looked like every last memeber of the Covert and special ops division) filled the stands of the eastern section all of them wearing silk robes or shoulder-knots in white and royal blue.

To the north however, lay something of a mystery. Rukia had heard of Clan Gendai, naturally. Her lessons in how to be a Kuchiki had covered the Four Noble Clans extensively; their history, their genealogy, their vassals. Gendai was the only other Clan besides Kuchiki that was still housed within the walls of the Seireitei, however it too, had its difficulties. About fifty or sixty years ago there had been an internal revolution that had led to an in-house civil war, one that had killed the House's only heir Jiroh Genbarai (who had actually been the Head of the Clan at the time) forcing the leadership to revert back to his father Rohku Genbarai, who had already been an old man and was getting older still. Because the son had died without issue (though there had been rumors that he had married a woman in secret, against the wishes of the family), the succession had been in dispute for the last several decades. It was nominally headed by Rohku Genbarai, but even though he was a direct blood decedent, he had relinquished his title and power to his son, and even on his death could not resume the True Power of the position he had vacated.

:_Something about him looks so very familiar to me though_,: Rukia thought as she studied the features of the head of the mysterious and reclusive Clan Gendai. :_I just feel like I should know it from somewhere, like its something so familiar to me that i take it for granted the way I take my face in the mirror for granted_.:

The old man sitting on the miniature throne in the center of the northern part surrounded by vassal families was a thin, frail-looking paper doll of a man. It was well known among the noble houses that Gendai produced the strongest ground fighters of the Four Noble Clans but one wouldn't guess it to look at the fragile gauntness of the man on the dais. Rukia had never met him in person, having only ever seen him at a distance, but there was something oddly familiar about the cast of the old man's features, something in the shape of his jaw and the mold of his brow that seemed like she should _know_ it from somewhere.

There was a young man sitting next to the Head of House Gendai, gazing out at the room with a cool, dispassionate gaze that nonetheless carried an aura not just of smugness but also of a strange kind of hunger, as if he were weighing the advantages of devouring this or that person and calculating the best way to go about getting the most benefit of a meal. She and Renji had worn such looks when they'd been scouting out market stalls in order to trick merchants and steal their food. Rukia immediately didn't trust him; that man was up to something, and if she was any judge it was something he thought he could get away with... either that, or he'd already gotten away with something and he intended on further ventures.

_:I can't believe the Elders think I'm gonna marry him!_: Rukia thought to herself.

They had been weighing the cost-benefit ratios of numerous candidates for the position of her future husband in private chambers in the Kuchiki Estate during a privy council each morning over breakfast with her and her brother. Rukia had thought she might get to escape politics for an hour, but noooo. Luckily her Elder Brother had not said anything to the (increasingly demanding) questions the elders posed about their candidate's suitability for an alliance. He had not openly _dis_approved of her being married off... but he hadn't approved it either. That still gave her some room to hopefully maneuver her _own_ candidate into place.

She had finally realized who it was that she loved, almost, but not _quite_, too late. It would have been better if she had noticed her feelings sooner, but at least she had known and understood them in time for her to act. She had understood it, in one strange dizzying moment of clarity as her life had passed before her eyes while she lay dying at the end of that fake Kaien Arrancar's lance. She had seen her past but it hadn't been like a montage, one scene following after the next, instead it had seemed like someone had taken a vase with a thousand different scenes painted in the glass and threw it to the ground in the sunlight, and there moments in her life glittered back at her in a senseless array, with some of them catching the light and sparking and others fading into shadow. Most of the ones that had glowed the brightest had been with _him_ in them... up until recently that was. For so long, he'd been her only friend; strong and reliable, brash but always supportive. The world had whirled in a storm around her it had seemed but he'd always remained steady, never doubting for a moment that he would have the strength to see tomorrow and to bring the people he looked out for along with him. There had been times when life had been so very unfair and had taken away people from her that didn't deserve it, that she had railed at him because she didn't have anyone else to blame, but he'd simply stood there and let her scream and beat her fists on him until she lost her strength to grief, then he'd picked her up and tucked her somewhere safe then guarded her as she slept.

She'd been so _angry_ with him for so long, feeling as though once he didn't need her anymore he couldn't get rid of her fast enough, but death had granted her the insight and wisdom to see past that anger and bitterness and feeling of her own inadequacy... she knew now that he'd done it because he _cared_. It was an unsettling epiphany to have because for so long she'd felt so _hurt_ that he hadn't seemed to need her as much as she'd needed him. She had let herself be angry with him and begrudge him his swift climb to the top because being angry with him had been so much easier than feeling hurt about being set aside as unnecessary. She knew better now, she knew that no matter what, Renji would be there when she needed him most no matter what it cost him.

_:I just wish it hadn't cost him his position as Lieutenant_,: she thought regretfully.

She knew that his choosing to accompany her to Hueco Mundo had been his own decision and that he'd made it without hesitation because he wouldn't trust her safety to anyone else, no matter how worthy that person might be. She also knew that her brother had had to save face somehow, and since he was unwilling to punish her, Renji got the short end of the stick. The two occasions she had tried to bring the subject up with her brother had been met with a curt dismissal; even if she was his sister, she was not to interfere in matters between a captain and lieutenant in Sixth Squadron.

Rukia was annoyed at the timing of his demotion too; Renji had been a lieutenant and that was a rank _just_ sufficient enough to be in company and (by a stretch) to pay court to a woman of her rank. With enough time and some manipulation of circumstances, she might have been able to turn matters to where Renji would have been a most advantageous asset to the Clan and family. If worse came to worse, since he was a lieutenant she could have made him invoke the Right of the Sword. It had fallen out of favor in recent centuries but it had never been stricken from the scrolls. Traditionally it had been for a noblewoman who had been wronged by a ranked officer of the Court Guard, she could name a champion to fight for her and defend her honor against the offending Reaper, if the Reaper was defeated he would have to pay with his life. In more than one case "pay with his life" had been interpreted as being hauled to the altar and married by the sword to the woman in question.

Rukia smiled to herself at the mental image her brilliant little plan had given her. She just _knew_ he had deep feelings for her, and she'd been fully intent upon tricking him into matrimony if that was what it took. The knowledge gained from a lifetime in miniature spent together during their formative years would grant her just the edge she needed, for instance she knew that on hot summer evenings he slept with no clothes on in his little bachelor's pad of a lieutenant's quarters, so Rukia had come up with a plan. It had been an awful _Rukia-y_ plan. First she'd make certain that there would be some matter that her brother needed to see his lieutenant about first thing in the morning, then she would sneak out of her rooms in the middle of the night, strip naked and climb into Renji's bed. After all, they had used to sleep in a pile with the other kids in winter when they'd been children, and bathe and swim naked together in the lakes during the summer, so she figured that it couldn't really be all _that_ different now.

:Then when Elder Brother comes to see his lieutenant in the morning...: Rukia thought, with a devilish internal chuckle.

He'd walk in and see her there with them both in Renji's bed on and she could rightfully challenge a ranking officer of Seireitei to a trial by Right of Sword on the spot. The only sticky part was that she was afraid that her brother, as Head of the Clan, would insist on defending her honor himself and she didn't want Renji dead before he could be forced to marry her.

Rukia had _originally_ planned to follow the route that Lady Shihouin had done a hundred years ago, and wait until Renji had been "made" into a successful and well-liked Captain, then marry him without any real problems, but there had been all of those talks recently of the Clan marrying her off to the heir apparent (but not by right) of Gendai so she'd had to nix that idea and pick a plan that was going to work a little more quickly. It wasn't perfect, and Renji might not forgive her very quickly for violating his honor, but he always forgave her _eventually_ for anything, so she figured that all she had to do was wait for a little while after they were married and he'd cool off.

His demotion could not have come at a worse possible time. She wondered secretly if her brother somehow knew or had guessed at her plans and had moved to nip them in the bud, but she hadn't told anyone her idea, or even hinted at it, so she didn't see how that could be.

_:Well, he's Renji, so chances are that he'll be climbing ranks soon again anyway_,: she thought hopefully.

After all, nothing could keep him down for long. Renji was no prodigy of the blade even if he had been in the advanced class in the Academy, so his climb to the top via the ranks of Eleventh had been swift for him. If he could do it once, he could do it again, only probably a great deal faster this time. He had a Bankai after all, that would make him something of a hot commodity for filling in open spots in the upper echelons of the Court Guard Squads.

:_Maybe if he transferred squads_,: Rukia thought consideringly, trying to gauge the best way to get him up those ranks quickly so that he'd become a more suitable match for her again.

There were plenty of open Lieutenat's Seats gone a'begging. Maybe he could transfer to Ninth Squad, he'd always been such good friends with his former Sempai, Shuuhei Hisagi (who was, coincidentally, now shy a Lieutenant). If he wasn't promoted on the spot then it doubtless wouldn't be long. Rukia briefly considered recommending him for Fifth but she didn't like the idea of him serving Captain Ise, not because she _disliked_ Ise, or thought Renji would try to skirt-chase his own Captain, but... well, Nanao Ise wasn't without her certain charm and Rukia just plain did not like competition. She knew he would probably have preferred to go back to Eleventh to lick his injured sense of dignity (I.E. beat the crap out of people in a fit of pique) but that squad already had a lieutenant so it was no good for her purposes. Twelfth was right out, you had to be smart to get in there, and Renji had something of a fear of clowns. He might be able to get into her own squad, but after having gone so long without a lieutenant, Rukia thought that her captain might not be eager to fill the spot with just anybody, even if she asked him to.

So her plan wasn't dead, just delayed a little bit. All she had to do would be to hold off serious talks of betrothal or matrimony until Renji made lieutenant again, then she could nab him by hook or by crook. There was still the matter of her brother to worry about but Rukia had faith that she'd either think of something... or Renji would survive it somehow. He'd managed to hold his own against Byakuya Kuchiki once, he could do it again.


	3. Chapter 3

Byakuya Kuchiki reviewed his notes on the most recent candidate presented by the secret cabal working across the traditional Clan boundaries to make a power play to get their own men into place in Central Forty-Six. There was nothing openly wrong with the man on the surface, he had an excellent record of service to his Clan and good managerial skills, Kuchiki could not find anything to object about in him, and that irritated him. He had managed so far to keep the number of candidates suggested by the secret cabal down to manageable levels, but it was coming to be more and more difficult to do so for every time he objected, he had to back up his desire to veto with solid irrefutable reasons why the candidate was unsuitable for the position. No-one else in all the Seireitei, besides perhaps, the Heads of the other Clans had the access to spies, information, and the universal loosener of tongues that was _immense_ material wealth that belonged to Clan Kuchiki, but even with all of these advantages, it was getting difficult to veto the candidates out of hand. He had to keep the numbers of the opposition small, for if they gained too much power unchecked within the ranks of Central 46, then the very foundation of Seireitei and of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads would be rotted at the core.

He wasn't supposed to even _know_ that the cabal that was subtly operating to grab power in the Seireitei even existed. Kuchiki knew about it, of course, but could not prove its existence (or name even one of its members). He strongly suspected that they were the remains of the machinery put in place by the former Captain Aizen in his century prior to his defection. And now they were moving on their own, consolidating power, seeking to weaken the Clans.

He all but knew they had dreams of a new era in Seireitei, where power was distributed more "evenly," and the Four Noble Clans were a relic of the past. Perhaps it was a noble idea, in theory... he had heard that such egalitarianism sometimes worked in the mortal realm (on occasion, here and there) but Soul Society was very much _not_ the mortal realm, nor was Seireitei. Those small fish had no idea the true depths of the waters they sought to swim in, nor of the monsters that lurked beneath the surface. The Seireitei existed the way it did for a reason, and that reason was not commonly known, (also, for a reason). The secrets guarded by the the Heads of the Noble Clans were far more dangerous than those little guppies could imagine.

:_But aside of Clan Kuchiki, and even we have our problems, most of the other Clans are weakened in one way or another... and that worries me_,: he thought.

He had thought so before, but with the mysterious cabal acting more and more to secure power, his suspicions about that matter had come to crystallize. Aizen might have had something to do with it, but he was certain that this mysterious cabal that was consolidating power via candidates for Central 46 had also been working from the shadows for a long time to weaken the Four Noble Clans and their Heads.

Starting with Shiba, the Clan that had voluntarily exiled itself out into the Rukon District South a little over a century and a half ago. The reasons for Kuukaku Shiba to do so were shrouded in mystery still, but it remained a fact that her Clan was not as influential as it had once been. Since the death of Kaien Shiba and his wife Miyako the only blood members of the Clan left were the Head of the Clan, Kuukaku Shiba, and her idiot brother, Ganju (and no matter how his own elders urged him, he would never inflict that fool upon Hisana's little sister).

The Shihouin Clan still had strong and healthy Clan Head in Yoruichi, and things were looking up now that she had married that man of hers, but they as yet had not had an heir. To not have a direct blood-heir was a weakness that the Clans could simply not afford, especially right then. The reason for that went far, far beyond mere noble snobbery. The Power was in the Blood and the Four Noble Clans were the pillars upon which the Seireitei was built. There were things out there... terrible things, that none but the heads could provide protection for.

There was his own Clan of course, the one that still held all of its power and influence within Seireitei, but he had not been able to bring himself to stomach the idea of seeking a new wife to replace his beloved Hisana, even though everyone from his sensechal to the Head Captain had urged him during war-time to remarry and father an heir. Kuchiki too, had no direct blood descendent, though Rukia was heir apparent, she was not of Kuchiki Blood and the Sword would not sing for her.

:_Still, I suppose we are no worse a position than Gendai is_,: Kuchiki thought somewhat wryly.

That Clan had been making do the best they could since the untimely death (assassination) of its former legitimate successor and wielder of the Sword of Genbu, Jiroh Gendai. Byakuya Kuchiki tuned out the long-winded speech of the man currently holding forth with great pomposity on matters he knew next to nothing about and turned his own thought inward, allowing himself a rare time to reminisce...

_**Flashback**_

Byakuya Kuchiki wove through the complex patterns of a sword form as easily as a snake uncoiled from a tree-limb, lithe and supple. He was please with that afternoons excersize and would work on his flash-step next followed by the newest kido regimen recommended by his private tutor then a cool-down with the bare-handed moves.

"Not bad laddie! Not bad at all," called an unwelcome voice from over to one side.

Byakuya had known he was there for the last twenty minutes had had been studiously ignoring him, the Head of Clan Gendai never made the least effort to disguise his reiatsu ever, and one could sense that unrestrained power a mile away.

:_Really, a person would have an easier time ignoring a singing mountain for heavens sake_!: he thought in irritation as the young heir to Clan Kuchiki moved on to the next pattern in his regimen.

He only had a little more time left to prepare before he was to test for the Academy, and Byakuya Kuchiki did not want to come in second place. The shame of such ignominy would be more than his House could bear.

"You're still a little weak on your off-hand, though," Jiroh added in, picking up a nearby wooden practice blade and deftly swinging at the place he seemed to have spotted.

Quick as a cat, Byakuya Kuchiki moved automatically in the patterned move to block the sword but the angle of his grip was wrong and the blase twisted and stabbed downward into the dirt. Jiroh twisted his own sword slightly and Byakuya's grip released and the sword clattered to the ground. The older man did not have to touch the young heir's throat with his wooden sword, they both knew he'd already won.

"See?" the man questioned.

Byakuya's face reddened with embarrassment at being caught out by such a simple, basic thing and especially by another member of the Four Noble Clans. Granted, that Jiroh Gendai had a century of training on him, but still... it was embarrassing. He'd seen Gendai fight. The man had power, there was no doubt of it, but Byakuya Kuchiki rather shared his grandfather's opinion of the way those of Clan Gendai fought... they would not have been out of place in Eleventh Squadron. They were all raw, brute physical force and little to no finesse. Oh Jiroh was a fighter to be reckoned with for certain; when he hit, his hits counted and there was no denying that, but he never bothered with kido if he could help it, his flash step was mediocre, and he had only an instictive grasp of strategy. Mostly his strategy consisted of hit it until it goes down and if it keeps moving hit it until it doesn't. For most fights, one or two hits were enough to do the trick.

After the Demon-Cat's defection to parts unknown when her friends were sentenced and then exiled, the Head of Clan Gendai (the only other Clan still left within the Seireitei's walls) seemed to have taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the young heir to Clan Kuchiki. One would not have been mistaken if one had said that the older man had taken an older-brotherly interest in Byakuya, but if one had asked Byakuya he would have said that he wished that the interest were a little less keen. The man had some of the oddest notions as to what constituted "helping."

Gendai was forever dragging an unwilling Byakuya off from his training and studies to "go out and experience life" whether said victim wanted the experience or not. Last time Jiroh had kidnapped Byakuya he had taken him out to one of the outer districts in the west end to witness ostrich-racing (of all things). The time before that it had been an all-you-can-drink sake bowl on the south end... the results of which had not been pretty for anyone involved. The time before that Jiroh had somehow become mistakenly convinced that a newly-turned-sixteen-year-old Byakuya Kuchiki was in need of more in-depth instruction in "becoming a man" and the subsequent tour of the east side's finest brothels had left Byakuya with more of an education than he really was certain he knew what to do with (parts of the ordeal he was still blocking out of his memory).

"Guess what, Little Whirlwind?" the older man questioned him.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes, both for the use of the unwelcome nickname and the trouble it usually heralded.

"I'm not going," he said flatly, crossing his arms and planting his feet.

"You spend too much time cooped up in this place with all of these tutors and books... that's fine for leaning what you'll be tested on, but the real things you need to know can't be found in books. You need to get out and experience things, lad, or all of the best of the world's going to pass you by."

All of the places that Jiroh Gendai took him were crowded, noisy and dirty. The older man seemed to be on a never ceasing quest to bring the young Kuchiki heir out of what he perceived as his shell. He was forever shoving him in among the boisterous crowd, insisting that the young man do this or try that, singing or dancing or shouting or even fighting. Jiroh Gendai was a bar-room brawler without parallel, seeming to deem it some kind of sport, and Byakuya Kuchiki had on more than one occasion narrowly missed getting his exquisite self soiled, or worse bruised in some of the melees that Jiroh engaged in on a regular basis.

"Let it pass," Byakuya grumbled irritatedly. "I only have a few short weeks until I test and you've already pointed out that my technique still needs work."

"I didn't come here with the intent of leaving empty-handed, boy," the Gendai said with a wide grin.

Byakuya knew that grin, and it usually heralded a fight.

"I'll tell you what lad, I'll give you a fair shot at getting out of it."

Byakuya didn't bother to hide his skepticism.

Gendai walked over to the rack and picked out a large, heavy padded wooden sword and tossed Byakuya another lighter sword to replace his old one.

"If you can beat me in a fight, I'll let you stay cooped up in yer little nest," Jiroh said magnanimously. "If I win though, there's this lovely little gem in South seventy-nine you have to see to believe. A dancer. The loveliest little thing I've ever laid eyes on. Eyes like emeralds, hair the color of freshly spilt blood, hips wide and generous enough for many sons, breasts as ripe as two fine melons... form as supple and flexible as a rag with the voice that would make a nightingale weep with inadequacy."

The young heir to Kuchiki raised two eyebrows at that statement. Jiroh Gendai made no secret of his love of women. A cynical young heir to Kuchiki would have said that there probably wasn't a "nightblossom" (Rukon slang for licensed prostitute) bar-maid, dancing-girl or orange-seller in the whole of the North Districts that the Head of Clan Genbarai hadn't sampled the charms of. When it came to the pleasures of the flesh, Gendai's appetite was without equal. To be fair to the man, he might have all the sexual morals of a roving tomcat, but he only ever took to the willing. He took his light of loves where ever he might find them and whomever might have him, but to date, though the Elders of his Clan pressed noble-woman after noble-woman on him with the hopes that he would find one to marry, the relatively young Head of the Clan remained obstinately single, vowing that he would only wed for love. In Byakuya's experience, Jiroh could hardly remember the name of the last girl who'd caught his eye, to hear him speak of one particular girl with a tone that approached reverence was positively unheard of.

"I'm almost tempted to go along just to see this paragon myself," Byakuya muttered in disbelief.

Out of all the unlikely scenarios, Jiroh Gendai being smitten and in love was perhaps the least likely. Still, the young heir to Kuchiki had his pride to protect, and it wouldn't let him just reverse what he said without a fight (which would be something that would get him into trouble later in life) so he picked up the wooden sword and charged in without warning. He swung swiftly the wood whistling through the air, hoping to catch his opponent off-guard. He should have known better of course, a fighter like Gendai was never off guard. His swing was blocked and Byakuya flash-stepped out of the way just barely in time to miss Jiroh's counter. The man's movements were wider and slower, but proportionately more powerful, the two times in succession that Byakuya had to block the swing from Jiroh had left his hands tingling and numb. The match was over in a few more moves with Jiroh as the victor.

"You're getting better lad," the older man said. "You're well on your way to surpassing me at flash-step certainly. Not on Yoruichi's level yet, but in due time I'm sure you'll catch up. As it stands, your skill with a sword is decent, I can't wait to see what your Zanpaktou looks like. It'll probably be another wind-type, they run in your family."

Jiroh continued to speculate as he force-marched the defeated young man out of the manor, past the South Gate and out into the Rukon Districts. Byakuya never much liked going out there and failed to see why the Gendai found it so fascinating. There were hardly any people with spiritual pressure, it was crowded, noisy and dirty. Byakuya's fastidious nature shied away from all the unwashed masses, and the dirt, and the noise. There were parts of it that were alright though; inside the Seireitei, "nature" was tamed. The greenery was all very carefully designed, cultivated and tended, there were neat little parks with miniature forests in them but one could always see the hand of man in every feature if one knew where to look; out in Rukongai, especially in the outer districts, nature was allowed to grow and thrive in a more chaotic and natural manner and sometimes the surprises it led to made it worth the unsettling sense of chaos.

But the forest was not Jiroh's goal that night and they kept to the crowded and dirty streets. Jiroh flashed them out to what had to be one of the very farthest districts to judge by the stagnant smell of the river and the sheer squalor. Street urchins, like rats, scampered out of the way at their approach. Older people eyed them for the possibility of relieving them of their purses but quickly gave the notion up as a bad idea. Wise of them. The place that Jiroh led him to was nice by comparison. It was a large sentou surrounded by a high wall placed in front of a clear steam with the edge of a forest in the background. The terracotta roof was not missing any tiles, the walls were all in good repair, and the front yard and garden was well swept with greeters bowing them in. It didn't even smell. Byakuya heaved a mental sigh of relief.

Jiroh was greeted personally by the mistress of the house, a Madame Amber. Byakuya would clue on to the fact quickly that, while the place's main function might be to serve as a bath-house, many of the serving girls within it were also professional courtesans, each of them denoted by the name of a gemstone.

"I hope my Ruby is free this evening," Jiroh said after getting the pleasantries out of the way, being seated in a private room by the mistress of the bathouse and politely treated to sake. The young heir to Gendai looked both possessive and anticipatory. Byakuya still couldn't imagine it. Jiroh. _In love_.

"She can be, young master," Amber said significantly. Jiroh smiled a little and told over a small pouch of coins to the woman who made it disappear as if by magic.

After a brief wait Byakuya got to see the woman who had finally, somehow managed to catch his womanizing friend's eye. Even he had to admit that she was a beauty. She was tall for a woman, with a figure that defined the word voluptuous, but her bone structure looked surprisingly delicate. Her facial features were fine, with high cheekbones, narrow eyes and an elfin chin, her nose straight and patrician. Her hair was indeed the bright color of light through a fine ruby, and her eyes were indeed like emeralds as Jiroh had described. As she danced, for that was what she did, her movements were naturally graceful rather than practiced; she moved, lithe and supple, as easily as a snake coiled up to hover and weave its head in the air. With training she would make an excellent fighter. The dancer who had managed to capture Jiroh's heart however was not what held the attention of Byakuya Kuchiki.

All dancers needed musical accompaniment to dance to, and in the room was a young woman who played the erhu, a stringed instrument with a long, thin neck, a tiny drum-like sounding chamber at the bottom that was played resting on the lap with a bow. Under most circumstances, unless the player was the focus of a recital or some such, Byakuya Kuchiki ignored music players as one would ignore furniture; they were there to provide a pleasant atmosphere in the room and that was all. It was the culture he had grown up in after all. In this instance however, though the player had gone to great pains to downplay herself; dressing in pale colors to blend in the with surroundings, hanging back in the shadows, there was something about her that drew his eyes to her.

He couldn't quite explain what it was he found so fascinating. She was a diminutive little thing, with a round, cherubic face and tiny hands that skillfully made the instrument sing. She let off a very very light pressure of reiatsu, one that was scented sweetly of the blossoms that bloomed only in spring, but that wasn't what drew his attention. Though her head was bowed over her instrument and all her concentration was on her music, it was her dark eyes that attracted his gaze the same way that a magnet attracted iron. Without even focusing their gaze on him, those mysterious, bottomless depths held him hypnotized. They held an elusive mystery in them, as if she knew all the secrets of sorrow and light and they danced there just beneath the surface of those indigo pools.

Upon further study of her he decided that she had a certain wistful elegance about her, a nobility of spirit that was tragically beautiful in its suffering, resilient as the reed that bent to the wind yet always maintained its uprightness after a storm. Gendai was too wrapped up in his own little world with the dancer woman to pay any attention to what his young companion did so Byakuya Kuchiki, feeling unusually nervous about it (he wasn't what anyone would have called a social butterfly... more like a fly in the ointment) rose and moved to sit near the erhu player, ostensibly so that he could hear her better.

She did play beautifully too, as skilled as any he had heard (and as the heir to one of the four noble families, Byakuya Kuchiki had heard some of the finest, most reputable players singers and composers that money could pay for). Her music by contrast was simple, but elegant in it simplicity. Her music carried with it a sense of melancholy tempered by a resilient fortitude, a will to endure and to persevere that fascinated him.

When the girl finished her set and rested her fingers Gendai and his new lady friend took that as their cue to make themselves scarce, the older man threw a casual, 'go have fun, boy!' over his shoulder as he plucked his lady up and carried her off.

:_Some responsible guardian you are_,: Byakuya thought sourly at his "older brother's" back.

That certainly wasn't normal behavior for Jiroh either, usually he'd catch a woman's eye but first conclude the gist of whatever mission had sent him out there in the first place and then drop Byakuya back home and go back later to finish his conquest. He must really have it _bad_.

Byakuya thought about simply leaving, after all it certainly had not been his idea to come here, but then the girl (she had to be around his age) started to play again, probably figuring that she still had a guest in the room and a job to do. The young Kuchiki heir decided that it would be a waste of a trip not to enjoy the music since he was already there. She played three more pieces, a fast paced piece with a great deal of arpeggios, and two slower ones designed to soothe and relax. When she was done with that set and paused to rest her fingers once more a young Byakuya was decidedly entranced.

His throat felt unexpectedly dry and his chest felt oddly tight. He was never one for conversation, believing that silence would speak for itself, but in this case he felt compelled to say something, _anything_ that might bring that mysterious creature closer to him.

"You, ah, you play surprisingly well," he managed.

The fae creature looked at him, a long, unblinking gaze that held it secrets in.

"Surprisingly?" she questioned.

It was at that moment that he realized that what he had said could be construed as rude.

"I mean-" Byakuya caught himself. He'd never actually been flustered before. He decided to try again.

"Your form and aptitude with the instrument are not sub-par. How ever did you learn to play so well out here?"

The young woman's gaze cooled noticeably.

"I was given to understand that the nobility born and raised within the confines of the Seireitei were all taught mannerly behavior."

"And you even speak well too!" he blurted out then mentally kicked himself. Just about _anything_ would have been better than what he'd just said.

"Ah yes," she said with a sweet smile that held a blade between its teeth. "And sometimes I remember to wash and eat with utensils."

"I didn't mean-" he stumbled. This was coming out all wrong. He'd never been so tongue tied with company before.

"If you'll excuse me, Milord," she said with a stiffly proper bow from the waist. "It is the end of my shift here, and another duty calls me away."

Without another word she stood in his presence without permission and all but stalked to the door, back perfectly erect and radiating a sense of injured pride.

"Wait," he commanded.

She paused, back to him and waited.

"You shall-" he caught himself this time. "Will you be here tomorrow at this time? I...I enjoy hearing you play."

She turned slightly and gave him an unreadable look from out of her wide, bottomless eyes. After a long pause, she nodded once and continued on her way.

No-one was more surprised than Byakuya Kuchiki himself when he finished his practice session for the day, then bathed and went to his chambers to change and found himself at a loss for what to wear. It was the lower districts so he shouldn't wear anything too fine, yet he didn't want to insult the girl, and himself, by dressing below his station... He dithered for a while, debating the merits of this one or that and finally decided on the deep blue egyptian cotton embroidered with grey cranes.

There was a look of abiding shock on his "older brother's" face when the fastidious young Kuchiki showed up to accompany him on his visit to see his dancer girl. Byakuya ignored Gendai's teasing with practiced ease and set his attention to the playing of the girl whose name he had yet to learn. After a half-hour's entertainment Gendai and his lady left the room to go and entertain each other with music making of another sort, leaving Byakuya in the sole company of the erhu player.

"Are you hungry?" he tried as a gambit.

He doubted she was interested in idle chit chat about the weather (which was the fall-back he had always been taught and had grown to detest, even at a young age Byakuya disliked prattle).

"Thank-you, no," she said softly.

"I could order sake, if you wish," he tried again.

"I do not partake of alcohol," she replied. "Milord should be cautious if he drinks, there are many in this sector who will prey upon the unwary, regardless of rank."

She was cautioning him? Even if he was not in the academy just yet, he was certainly capable of handling his own against a few back-alley ruffians. He was Kuchiki after all. Still, Byakuya himself was not fond of alcohol to be honest; it was a taste he had yet to acquire.

"And yourself?" he asked next, wondering slightly at his boldness. "Will you be alright when you leave this place?"

"Safety, milord, is a relative concept in Hangdog," she said with a touch of wryness in her voice. "But yes, I have enough different measures of surety that I will be safe enough."

Byakuya looked piercingly at her and was less than reassured by her assertions; she was small, and so very, very frail-looking. She looked as though the slightest breeze would take her with it, as beautiful and delicate as a flower petal. There was silence between them for a time while he listened to her play.

"You truly do have a remarkable talent with the instrument," he said at a pause between two songs.

The young woman merely smiled politely at him.

"If you want," he siad, a slight inspiration seizing him. "I could bring you into Seireitei where you could have proper lessons. In a few years time, with access to the right tutors, you could command your price on any stage in Seireitei."

"I am afraid that is impossible," the girl said with what sounded like a whistful air of melancholy about her.

"If you are worried about the propriety I can assure you that nobles patronizing talented artists isn't frowned upon. In fact, it's encouraged; there are many who think that artistic talent f one sort or another heralds a blossoming soul and that those souls go on to become Reapers in a few lifetimes. You would have a room all to yourself and lessons and I... I could see you again."

The young woman looked visibly longing at the picture he painted for her. He could visibly see her thinking of the roof over her head and the food and clothes she might get to wear and he thought that for certain she would allow him to sponsor her but to his everlasting shock she slowly, regretfully shook her head.

"I am sorry but I must regretfully decline your offer," the young lady said.

Now he was a bit irritated. He had offered this girl a tremendous step up from a life of poverty in an outer district and she had the temerity to turn him down twice! His temper, still not perfectly under his control, spiked a bit.

"And why, might I ask, would you possibly decline such an offer. You prefer playing for ruffians?"

"My audience," she reprimanded him in the cool, precise tones of a noblewoman delivering the Cut Direct. "Has nothing to do with why I must decline. I have a greater duty here. Duty is something which I would hope a member of the nobility such as yourself might understand. Good day to you, milord."

She rose and bowed properly, but Byakuya could tell by the tense set of her shoulders that she was displeased with him and it was likely she would find a way to avoid his company in the future.

:_It's probably better this way_,: Byakuya told himself even as it felt like his heart was a bird fluttering around in the cage of his chest, trying to escape and follow her into the wide unknown skies.

He couldn't even begin to explain the fascination she held for him. He had known her for a mere day, it shouldn't feel like he recognized something in her, something that seemed to be a match for something inside of him and that he wanted to further explore the mystery. It wasn't love at first sight, for Byakuya did not believe in fairy tales, but it was something he couldn't define.

:The family would never go for it. They already have my betrothed all picked out for me and it is certainly not a young woman from the second lowest district in the Southern Province.:

Even still, there was something inside Byakuya that rebelled at tamely accepting the life that was handed to him, some small voice in him that said that accepting ones duty was one thing but denying the right to make his personal selection with regards to the woman he would spend the rest of his long days with was denying something integral to his own soul.

:I've only met the girl twice. I don't even know her name!: he tried to talk himself out of it.

Strangely deep in the relative silence of the room, there came a soft, chiming sursuration as though a thousand tiny voices all sung in perfect harmony, and beautiful choir and he felt a strange thrumming in his chest in resonance with that song. He recognized the song it was the very same one that Hisana had played for him. Deep within him, the voices in the chorus spoke to him without words.

**_Follow Her_**

"Who are...?" he asked, nearly certain that someone had spoken to him, but there was no-one else in the room.

Byakuya looked around, listening for the voice, (or rather the voices again) it sounded like a thousand sweet singers all resounding in perfect harmony. Somehow he knew, blood deep, that the voice had not come from without, but from within.

"Are you my...?" he whispered, almost not daring to question it aloud.

He was still in the academy, not even fully graduated to full Reaper status and he had never been allowed to handle a live blade for his instructors worried that premature exposure to a Zanpakutou could stunt a pupils emotional growth and that the great power of the spirits that dwelled within the blade could crush the more fragile and still developing spirits of the future wielders. That the necessity to control that power would damage the spiritual growth of the still developing psyche of a future reaper. Suddenly such a notion seemed to be utterly ridiculous to Byakuya. Where before he had take the words of his instructors at face value he suddenly thought that their fears were as the clucking of hens in the courtyard panicking over their own shadows.

_**Follow**__** Her**_

All of his tutors and instructors had cautioned him that in his first encounter with the spirit of his Zanpaktou, Byakuya must immediately assert himself as the master if thier relationship was to proceed properly, but now that he was at the moment, he wasn't so inclined to listen. He was curious now.

"Why should I?" he demanded, his pride very much stung by the fact that a woman so very much beneath him should treat him in such a manner. She had the temerity to reprimand him about his behavior... twice!

But the blade, if that was indeed what it had been was silent.

:_I think it must be my zanpaktou spirit after all, it's just like me; say's what it needs to and doesn't waste time when the answer is obvious. My teachers all say that a warrior should listen to the voice within. I'm pretty sure this is not what they had in mind, but far be it from me to ignore good advice._:


	4. Chapter 4

That was the summer that the world opened up for him. The life of Byakuya Kuchiki had always been rigidly defined by his status as the heir the the Kuchiki Clan; every deed, every thought, every moment had been held up to the measure of his ancestors and the Elders expectations of him. The moment that Hisana had glanced over at him from the corner of one eye and at last smiled at him, all of that flew apart like a whirling shower of petals and flew away on the wind, suddenly everything that he had always taken for granted he allowed himself to question. He would be a warrior, but would he be a warrior just because it was his duty to do so, or would he be a warrior because doing so would protect souls like Hisana from becoming hollow-food? He would uphold the law, but would he do so because it was right or because it was expected?

The still, calm center of this sudden storm was a tiny young woman of grace and fragility. She lived so cautiously, weighed each choice she made carefully to ensure that it was not impusive and that the effects would not bring harm to another. She was kind and gentle in her every word and action, teaching Byakuya by simple example worlds of lessons about honor and humility that his tutors could only lecture uselessly about. Despite every awkward attempt he made, Hisana would not open up to him. Her mysteries were still mysteries and whatever hold that the places she wandered had over her, she refused to share her burden with him. Still, Byakuya knew by the end of the first week that he loved her. It was like there was an invisible string that tied thier two hearts together, and he could ever sense thier connection thrumming softly between them. Hisana might play innocent and pretend not to notice, but he knew deep down that she could feel it too.

Senbonzakura agreed with him. The first time he had admitted his feelings to himself, he learned his zanpaktou's name. The great spirit had said, when he'd expressed his surprise at it, that love was one of the hardest things for thier soul to accept, for it meant pain and vulnerability. There was not a doubt in his mind or heart that, even if the whole universe was against thier union, Byakuya Kuchiki would have Hisana by his side as his lawful wife and no other. Convincing the prospective lawful wife of the matter, however, was proving something of a challenge.

"Byakuya-sama is feeling better now, I hope," Hisana said with a small smile as she trailed a hand in the water of the nearby spring.

He had convinced her to cry off her mysterious search to spend the afternoon with him by promising to take her to the next town over by flash-step if she would stay with him until twilight. He had brought a repast to share with her from his house, knowing that her spiritual pressure, while not enough to be useful was just enough to cause her to be hungry and suffer fainting spells if she did not get enough nourishment.

"I was never ill, Hisana," he replied, adding more food onto her plate and handing it over to her. She would not let him feed her by hand either.

"Surely you must have been, and frequently," she argued in that gentle way she had. "For you asked me several times to marry you. I hope your brain fever has passed and that you have come to your senses."

"I have never taken leave of them, except in the common way that all men of good heart do," he replied. "I still love you, and I still desire our hands to be joined in matrimony."

"So. Still not feeling yourself then," Hisana said a bit pityingly.

"I am more myself now than I have ever been. Were this not so, my sword would still be silent to me. I hear her in my dreams, and when I care to look within and listen her voice is there to guide me, just as I feel our bond between us whenever we are together. Your protestations avail you little in this matter. You cannot change what is true simply by wishing it otherwise."

"I could turn your words back at you Byakuya-sama," Hisana replied. "Your desire to take a woman from the farthest reaches of Rukongai as your wife and the future mistress of the Kuchiki Clan is absurd. A fish might love a bird, but where will they live?"

"If I must listen to that old proverb one more time I swear I will find a way to crossbreed the two of them. As it stands, we are not a separate species. You are a woman, and I am a man, and we may be wed if we so choose."

"Except that you are a noble and I am-"

"The woman I love," he said shortly, wearied already of the argument.

He was gratified to see color rise into her cheeks at his statement of fact. She was looking more and more pale of late but stubbornly refused to let him take her to see a real doctor, insisting that the vile hebal concoctions of some half-literate herb-shaman out in the sticks was good enough for her. Byakuya worried that the herbal concoctions he was handing over to her might be making her sick, or something in the air here was bad for her, the fainting and dizzy spells were getting worse.

"The Elders of my Clan excel in matters of politics and history and a great many things, but they cannot tell me what only my heart can know. Senbonzakura knows it too. This is the truth that exists at the core of me and it is not something that I will allow to be bandied about, set aside or denied. If even you will insist on doing so then I shall simply have to follow the Rukongai custom I have heard so much of and steal you."

"I have no war-lord protector," Hisana corrected him. "Wife-stealing only applies within that structure."

"Regardless, I wish you to come home with me."

"Byakuya-sama," she said, looking at him out of her bottomless, liquid eyes.

He could see the yearning in them, he knew she felt the same way for him that he did for her! Why did she continue to deny him? To deny the obvious truth he knew!

Byakuya, tired of talking the matter to death, opted to show her instead. He simply leaned in and closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss. The world went still and a sourceless wind came rushing in, accompanied by the sound of a thousand beating wings. The sweet taste of her reiatsu seemed to pull him in, attuning his essence to the soul of her. Every part of his being resonated with hers, perfectly in synch, completed and balanced as yin and yang. She was the only thing in the universe that could fit and fill the places inside of him where part of him was missing.

"Byakuya-sama," she whispered softly, her spirit pushing up robably without her even realizing it to hold him there. He willingly obeyed her unconscious, silent entreaty and kissed her again, pressing her down gently onto the blanket he'd rolled out under the shade of the tree by the tiny spring up in the mountains. His reiatsu seeped out of him without his conscious direction, but where with anyone else it would have been a choking aura, Hisana it surrounded in a gentle cocoon, tender and soft as it stroked and pulled around her, her clothes riffled slightly in the soft breeze. He could feel her intimately, her essence.. and her need. She was hollow in the places where he belonged.

"Please, I..." Hisana said, her tiny hands curling into fists at the open front of the white shitage tucked into the blue hakama that the Academy assigned all the students to wear. She returned his kiss with a soft abandon, her spirit yeilded and gave itself over to the feeling between them, accepting his embrace.

It was not quite an entreaty, but it was as close as he would hear to a surrender. He didn't know what was holding her back so much or why she was so desperate to remain behind in that hellish existance she continued to choose, and right then he didn't care. All that mattered to him then was that Hisana was there, and that they needed each other.

Her small hands traced lines of fire over the muscles that daily training with the sword at the academy were developing as she slid her hands up under his shirt. The traces of his reiatu left behind as he kissed down her neck and collarbone stood out on her pale skin like drops of moonglow. Wherever they touched star-like points of light bled between them as thier spirit-essence combined, glowing out from within them.

It was heat, and light and love in so pure a form that it was almost painful to hold; like trying to hold ones hand too close to a flame. He bared her shoulders, the soft curve of her breasts, exploring, tasting, touching, experienceing. Her hands made and unmade him, creating a being of spirit where before there had been only flesh. A Kuchiki, he had always been told, belonged to its name, to the duty of thier Clan first and forever. He was Kuchiki, but he was also, in that gentle contact, utterly hers... as she was his. He lay her out, thier skin bare as the wind blew over them softly, taking her as he gave himself to her. Thiers was a joining and a rejoining, a loosing and a finding, a giving and a claiming. Time and self fell away when thier bodies joined, soft and slow, the world that had been before burned away, oblittereated by their union.

"Hisana," he murmured into her skin as they lay dazed and dazzled by the wonder between them. he pressed small kisses at points along her body reveling in the feeling of his reiatsu permeating every part of her, mingled with the taste of her spirit mixed with his, like two rivers joined to become one.

"Byakuya-sama," she murmured.

The love and acknowledgement he'd always longed to see at last shining there in her eyes. There was not nearly enough of it there to satisfy him, but he had gained this much, the rest would surely come with time.

"You feel as I do. If you deny it I know you lie," he informed her. "Stay with me. Be with me forever. This place is not your place, you belong with me as I do with you."

He prayed inwardly that at last she would give over her stubborn refusal to become his wife, give up her useless (and untrue) denials of her place being out there in Hangdog instead of at home with him.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she turned her head, trying to move away from him. Frustrated with her stubborness, Byakuya refused to let her turn away from him that time. He was tired of her gentle evasions, he loved her and he knew she loved him, there was nothing more important than this.

"Come home, Hisana," Byakuya commanded, lacing thier fingers together.

"How can I?" she sobbed. "How can I possibly have a home with you while..."

"While what?" he asked, wondering if she would at last confide in him the matter that seemed to wiegh so heavily upon her that it was like a silent presence in the room, eating away at her ability to enjoy happiness, and to be with him.

"It is not your concern Byakuya-sama, it is my burden alone to carry," she demured once more, as she always did.

It was frustrating to once more feel her trying to put distance between them, especially now when he had thought that he'd finally gotten through to her, shown her in no uncertain trms that there was no distance between them and there never would be.

"Tell me," he pleaded with her. "Open yourself to me, Hisana. I will share in it, whatever it is."

"I... I cannot Byakuya-sama. I cannot bear to speak of it with you, please I would never taint you with the shame I know. You must not ask it of me. I... I love you too dearly and deeply for that."

His heart seemed to float up on a great white wind at the sound of her soft words. She had never once come close to even hint at returning his feelings, and usually changed the subject when he tried to cajole it out of her. But she had at last spoken the words to him! She'd acknowledged the truth that lay plainly between them and he knew that in that moment she had finally conceeded the point and would no longer continue her useless denials on the fact that she loved him as he did her.

The sun had set, and he reluctantly dressed and allowed herself to collect her things. They did however share a few soft smiles and kisses along the way. He was not yet where he wanted to be, but he was making progress. he joined thier hands again, kissing her knuckles softly, then swept her into his arms and off to the next town as he had promised. He purchesed her a room and a grant of safe-passage from the local bath-house madam and it was a testament to thier new level of understanding that she allowed him to do that for her and did not protest his right to arrange matters to ascertain her safety while he was away. She wouldn't go away with him, whatever held her in Hangdog had too strong a hold on her yet, but she would let him make her as safe as he could while she continued with whatever quest drove her.

"I must return," he murmured against her skin. he had stayed long past midnight in the rooms he had acquired for her in the bath-house. "Promise me that you will take care, Hisana."

"I will do my best, milord," she said reaching up and kissing him lingeringly.

Byakuya positively preened under what was for her, a lavishing of praise and affection. She so very rarely called him her lord, even as a matter of function, and had never openly and willingly initiated a gesture of affection, always before he had pursued. As Byakuya flash-stepped across the outher districts he ran over in his head all the various strategies he might try to gain another victory the next time he saw her.

* * *

The hot, lazy days of summer craweled slowly to fall and Byakuya was kept somewhat occupied with his family duties, and sneaking out to meet with Hisana at every possible opportunity. The break in the heat happened just as classes started and he was a second year student in the Soul Reaper Academy. He had all but forgotten the one who had been the cause of his meeting the love of his life. Said cause had not, however, forgotten about him.

"Wake-up, Little Whirlwind," the deep toned voice of the Head of Clan Gendai commanded him as he was shook roughly awake.

"Wha-?" he mumbled, only partly awake. The clothes that were thrown at his head weren't making matters any clearer.

He was currently sleeping in his room in the Academy, there should have been no way for a man with as little control over his reiatsu as Jiroh Gendai possessed to sneak onto the grounds.

:Unless that "sneaking" is just a polite fiction on behalf of the instructors as a way for them to excuse themselves from interfereing in matters between the heads of the noble houses,: Kuchiki surpised later.

Even his roomate was assiduously pretending to be asleep.

"Put that on and come with me."

What Jiroh Gendai had thrown at him was a bundle of cloth, one that jingled as Byakuya held it up to reveal what it was. The jingle was the two kenseikan and the metal-strung cord that held the haori closed. Byakuya Kuchiki wasn't the head of Clan Kuchiki just yet, but the heir also had a formal costume and Jiroh had brought his to him.

"There are no formal events scheduled," he protested even as he did what the elder Clan Head instructed. Unlike the demon-cat, Jiroh Gendai, while he might play fast and loose with custom would never do anything illegal.

"Follow me," Jiroh said instead.

The two nobles slipped silently out into the night. The elder leading the younger away from the Academy grounds, past the gates of the Seireitei, into the slightly dusty streets of the first district in the Souther Province. They continued at a slightly hurried pace, both of them wearing long cloaks to cover up thi fine clothes they wore, though Kuchiki wondered why they bothered since even the regular souls of Rukongai would probably be able to sense something unusual about them without even looking at thier clothes. Jiroh led him several districts out, not as far out as Hisana lived, but not close either.

"What in the world?" Byakuya wondered to himself.

The place he'd led him to looked bizarre, no matter how he looked at it. It was an ordinary, innocuous-enough looking clearing in the woods, it sat right next to the great roaring river that fed all the way out to the end of the South Districts, even Hangdog. There stood two pillars shaped like two giant cacti (each of which had a very surprised face drawn on it) with a banner strung between them advertizing fireworks. They passed between the very odd opening gate and walked around the side yard to the back, which had been made up with lanterns and decorations, as though for a party. A group of people that Byakuya had never met before stood nearby. He couldn't tell whether they were nobles pretending to be Rukongai toughs, or toughs pretending to be nobles. the clothes were different in cut from what he was accustomed to, more southern and exotic in flavor, with headwraps and scarves, the woman was missing an arm, there was an ugly boy nearby and a young man and woman dressed in Soul Reaper clothes.

"You probably haven't met them," Jiroh said with little preamble. "But this here is Clan Shiba. That's the Head of the Clan, Kaien Shiba, his wife Miyako. Next to 'em, the elder sibling Kuukaku Shiba, and that boy's the youngest, little Ganju Shiba," he said, pointing each out in turn. "This here is Byakuya Kuchiki, I guess that'll about do it for witnesses."

"Witnesses?" Byakuya, questioned cluelessly, disliking the feeling of being utterly lost in the situation.

"Yep, boy. I'm after gettin' hitched. My woman's heavy with carrying my future son, so I want everything to be on the up and even when he get's here."

That was when Byakuya's eyes were drawn to the final person in the grouping. Settled on a cushion in the middle of the garden was the woman he now recognized as Jiroh's precious Ruby, but pregnancy had filled her out quite a bit, and she was, as the proud father-to-be had noted, quite gravid with his child. She glowed with health, love and pregnancy and abruptly Byakuya's mind flashed to what Hisana might look like, carrying his child someday. The image caused a slight, happy little flutter in his stomach.

"Isn't the wedding of a Clan Head supposed to be a little more elaborate than this?" Byakuya questioned.

In fact, he was certain of it. His own Clan Elders had drilled the proper protocols and etiquette for an event like the wedding of the Head of one of the Four Noble Houses into his head, and it didn't involve just showing up in a nice suit.

"My Clan's being ridiculous about it," Jiroh said, irritation evident in his voice. "Half the Clan's throwing some big huff over it so I'm just going to hand it to 'em and they can suck it."

Byakuya frowned a little at that, not that Jiroh was acting out of character for him, when he'd made up his mind on something there were mountains that were not as stubborn as that man could be when he was of a mind for it. However, Byakuya's grandfather, an astute and savvy politician, had been very uneasy lately about the state of matters over in Clan Gendai. Apparently there was some faction within the House that was making some kind of power play and he felt that the stability of the North Clan might be in jeopardy. Byakuya had tried talking with the man about it twice already but the Elder Clan Head's thoughts had been clearly elsewhere, now Byakuya knew where... he had been elated with the news of the impending birth of his firstborn child.

"If you marry her out here, even with the other Clan Heads as witnesses, if you don't legitimize it in Seireitei, the Clan won't acknowledge the union," Byakuya felt obliged to inform him. "They'll just pretend she's your mistress."

"I'll be after settlin' with them in due time," he growled, looking feral and like he was very much looking forward to busting the heads of anyone with the idiocy to argue with him over who his chosen bride might be. "I looked it up, this is a legitimate marriage and they can't deny it."

Byakya shrugged, figuring he was being hopelessly naive about it, but it was his fight so he could do it whatever way he wanted.

The two retainers nearby struck the gong to signal that the ceremony was about to begin. Byakuya and the Shiba Family was seated in a line behind the circle drawn into the ground. Kuukaku Shiba sprinkled the ring with water and salt, consecrating the ground then rang a bell to catch the attention of any wandering spirits. The three witnesses clapped in unison three times and bowed their heads. Then Kuukaku Shiba came forward with a basket carrying a small loaf of bread.

"This bread represents the good and fulfilling things that you will share between you in your lives together. Do each of you swear that you shall share the bread of your lives; the love, the companionship, the loyalty and devotion equally with the other without stinting?" Kuukaku demanded as she broke the bread loaf in half and handed them each a piece.

"We do so swear," the two of them chorused firmly, then they linked their arms together and ate their portions of bread.

Next Kuukaku poured two goblets of water and handed one to each.

"Water is necessary for life to exist, the same that love, honesty and respect are necessary for marriage to exist. This water represents the life you will make together from your separate selves the same way that a river joins the sea. No longer will your lives be separate entities, your tears of pain and of joy will mix. Do you swear that whatever the waters of your future lives will bring, you will face the tides as one?"

"We do so swear," the happy couple pronounced. Jiroh had his hand over the swelled belly of his soon to be wife and they shared a special smile as they linked arms and drank the cup.

Kukaku handed the blankets over to the two of them and they each spread one over the shoulders of their partner, then linked thier left hand, palm to palm with their fingers interlaced.

"The blankets represent warmth, security and shelter. Do you promise to share the same roof, the same walls that same possessions and wealth throughout your lives together?"

"We do so swear," they avowed.

"Then," Kuukaku said, pulling a pinch of ceremonial salt out of a paper twist, she placed a small bit on each of their tongues and threw the rest into the air. "Consecrated by salt, your vows are made before the world and skies."

She pulled out a long red ribbon and wrapped it round to bind their wrists together, ending with tying their left pinky fingers together with the ends.

"Your lives are bound now and forever, and what is bound here shall only be loosed in death."

Byakuya Kuchiki was made to sign an ordinary legal document of marriage on the witness line as with a whoop, Jiroh Genbarai scooped his new wife up, deposited her on his lap and kissed her quite thoroughly. They were obviously very much in love, and it made Byakuya sort of with that the elder lord had warned him about the ceremony ahead of time instead of sneaking him out of the Seireitei in the middle of the night; if he had, maybe Byakuya could have gotten Hisana to attend, and maybe he could have used the romance of the moment to get her to agree to making it a double wedding.

The party was a small affair, and Jiroh did not allow his pregnant wife to partake of the celebratory sake. The two house retainers provided the entertainment, though how entertaining two guys singing badly in falsetto could be was probably best left with a polite smile. Byakuya was about to cry off exhaustion and a need to return to his barracks before dawn when the proximity alarm for the perimeter abruptly went off.

The Shiba's closed ranks around their guests. Kaien and his wife seemed to summon their zanpaktou from out of thin air (he had heard stories that the upper level officers were capable of such things, but all the texts that Byakuya had read quite clearly said that a maneuver such as that was the fruit of many years study with the blade). Jiroh pushed his heavily pregnant wife behind him to protect the weakest person in danger and drew his own sword out of no-where as well. Kuukaku Shiba, one armed though she was, seemed to have her own weapons, for a blaster-style cannon started sending out explosives into the ranks of the attacking party.

The attacking party did not introduce themselves. They looked rather a lot like ninja assassins, but they lacked the markings and aura of officers from the Second Squadron. To Byakuya's eyes, they all looked like they were some Noble House's private army, and it was actually quite sizable. There were at least twenty, with more flashing in by the moment. There were too many for such a small party to fight off easily, even if two of the party were upper level officers from the Soul Reapers and one was a fighter of renown. They'd get overwhelmed with sheer numbers.

"Boy!" Jiroh snapped as he shoved the unwieldy pregnant form of his new bride at him. "Take my wife and escape from here, that's a command!"

It was on the tip of his tongue to snap that Jiroh had no right to command him, but he realized the stupidity of the argument. First of all, he was the only other non-combatant; Senbonzakura was speaking to him, but he was still an academy student and as-yet without a blade to truly call his own. Second, Jiroh had just shown him an enormous measure of trust, asking him to guard something that meant more to him than his own life.

"Missus," Byakuya said, holding out a hand to her.

"I won't leave your side, my love!" Renata replied, clutching at the sash of her husband's kimono, distress written plainly on her face.

"You must," he said firmly, even as he tenderly stroked her cheek. "You are the protector of our unborn child, and you carry our precious future inside of you. That duty must come first, even before your love for me. Flee and be safe, I will join you shortly."

Byakuya took his cue from that command and seized the woman's wrist, knowing that if it were Hisana, he would want someone to make certain that she was made safe if he couldn't do it himself. He dragged her away, sruggling and protesting, but Byakuya knew this was the best thing. A Pregnant woman was vulnerable and not always rational about things, they had to be protected and kept safe.

In the din behind him he could hear the shouts of battle as the wedding party kept all the attention focused on them to distract the army from the two fleeing the battlefield.

"Please!" the woman shouted at him between pants as he hauled her along behind him. "Please we must go back. I have to go back to him, I can't abandon my husband! Please, we have to-"

"You have to be quiet and run," Byakuya snapped back, worried for her sake about pursuit. "Your lord and husband commanded you flee."

"And I just gave my word to share with him in all things, I will be an oathbreaker if I abandon him now," Renanta replied.

"You can't share in this," he said, trying to keep her quiet so that the enemy hopefully would not pursue. "Just let your husband do his best by you and that baby you carry. He loves you both, it's his right and privilege to put everything on the line to protect what means more to him than anything. You can share in it by keeping that unborn baby safe like he asked you to."

Renanta gritted her teeth, staring over at her shoulder with tears in her eyes, then she resolutely turned her head and finally stopped struggling to turn back. Byakuya led her through the thick trees and up a nearby steep, steep hill that sheered into a cliff that the nearby rushing river made a waterfall over. From that vantage point, he felt it would be safe enough to possibly see all enemy soldiers trying to make their way over to them in time to stop them. He hid the young Gendai Bride in the shadow of a fallen-over log and went to scout to see if he could tell how the battle was going. There was still a chance that he could see real fighting instead of having to babysit the pregnant woman. Thunder rumbled off in the distance, the sound of wind shaking the leaves on the trees violently heralded the fact that there was a nasty storm on the way. The first droplets began to pelt him and the ground.

:_I don't see anything that looks like pursuit,_: Byakuya thought hopefully. :_I think we escaped without their knowing about us_.:

He hunkered down in the shadow of the fallen log and pushed the woman back more firmly into the makeshift shelter. It would be bad if she took a chill and went into labor early. Jiroh would be angry id Byakuya got to see the birth of his firstborn child and the expectant father missed it.

He heard the sound of fighting drawing closer up the hill and the young Kuchiki heir readied a chain of kido spells to defend himself and the woman he had been charged with protecting. Fleeing further was not really an option, the terrain was too steep and the rain would make the rock slippery. If she slipped and fell, even if she somehow managed to roll with it, she'd loose the child and possibly her own life. Byakuya would have to stand and defend her in place of her husband.

In the midst of the shouts of enemy fighters, he heard a familiar roar. Jiroh Gendai was still alive and fighting as though possessed by a demon. Through a gap in the trees Byakuya could see him mobbed by a ring of fifty fighters, a whole horde more of them trying to pile themselves on top of him like lions trying to bring down a buck. He swung, and punched and slashed in a blood-filled frenzy, fighters falling like chaff before him. Byakuya had never seen anyone, even an instructor, able to take so many trained fighters and still remain standing but Jiroh Gendai seemed to possess a strength greater than a whole squad of Soul Reapers. It looked for a long moment, like he might actually be victorious! Each swing whittled away at the number of attackers, and even if there were always more of them, there were still fewer to attack. One fighter, however, managed to get in close on a weak spot on his flank. Byakuya unleashed a spell to take him out, but too late. Jiroh threw his head back and let out a howling scream, as a sword thrust itself deep into his chest through his side. Another stab followed swiftly behind it.

"My lord!" the young bride cried, surging forward and trying to leave the safety of her hiding spot to go aid her husband. Byakuya grimly pushed her back and shielded them both with kido.

The world seemed to narrow as Jiroh, clearly knowing he was going to die, sank to his knees as more of the attackers slashed and stabbed at him and Byakuya saw his lips moving. He had just barely enough time to raise the most powerful shielding kido he knew.

"Renata, I love you!" Jiroh yelled on his last breath.

The sky and world glowed eerie green for a moment that seemed to coalesce in a shrinking ball. The eyes of the attackers widened almost comically as they all rushed over each other, trying to escape. Too late. The orb pinpointed and the world flashed green-white, like a lightning bolt had just struck the ground right at his feet. The ground trembled and the air screamed, then it was still. Byakuya wasn't certain how his sheild had held through it, then figured that maybe it had held because the death-curse somehow skipped over it, the intention to protect his wife hanging on even in those last moments.

:_Even so, someone wanted him dead, and I don't know if the coast is clear_,: Byakuya thought, now doubly cautious with the one thing that his former mentor had given him to protect that had meant more to him than his life. Byakuya was going to protect the woman and that baby to honor the man's memory.

:_Not only that,_: he promised himself. :_When that baby is born, I'm going to be its mentor and guide. I'll protect it and teach it the way Jiroh did me because he's my friend and he can't be here to do it himself_.:

Renata, sobbing brokenly, tried to crawl out of hiding and over to where her husband would have lain, if the death spell hadn't obliterated all traces of the attack. Byakuya placed a hand over her mouth to silence her sobs as he sensed reiatsu approaching, ones that were not friendlies. It went without saying that sh was not leaving the relative safety of hiding.

The resolution gave him the strength he needed to keep the light-bending sheild up and around himself and Renata when, moments later, a small squadron of enemy scouts came along, following the trail of the recent battle. Walking more slowly behind them was another man, one who looked vaguely like Jiroh but not as tall and his hair was lighter, but he surveyed everything around him with eyes that were shrewd and calculating. For a long moment, as his eyes swept past the fallen tree where he was hidden, Byakuya worried that he'd detected them, but his eyes slid past and he continued on his way.

"Sir, he's been taken down," one of the scouts reported.

"Any sign of his woman?" the man inquired calmly.

"None, sire," the scout replied. "The woman must have escaped."

"Keep searching!" the man snapped. "And don't give up until you've found her. I cannot have that woman giving birth. That unborn whelp is the sole legitimate successor to the Seat of Gendai!"

Hot tears seeped down over his hand, the one he yet held across her mouth to silence any noise she might make. He could feel her body shaking and her hand flew to her stomach. Byakuya didn't have time to panick about what that gesture might mean for a voice shouted

"Here! I sense them over here!"

Byakuya, knowing that hiding further would avail them nothing, broke cover and shoved the woman behind him. Charging up the hill through the pouring rain of the storm was a small hunting party of five assassin scouts. The two in the lead he took out with a quick kido-chain, but that left three more. They were mostly ignoring him, thier gazes concentrated solely on the woman behind him, the last and only thing his friend had given him to protect.

:_Not while I'm around_,: Byakuya thought to himself grimly.

He cursed his lack of weaponry, without a sword he was powerless to protect anything.

::**All you ever need do is ask**,:: a chiming multi-voice rang in his mind.

:_Huh? But that's impossible, you can't come to me now! We receive our zanpaktou upon graduation_.:

Everyone knew that, otherwise every smart-ass student would be endangering thier life and everyone elses by swinging live steel around at every opportunity.

::**The asuachi? Come now, surely you don't think that those husks are actually the real zanpaktou? What in the world do you think Reapers did before there was the Academy to hand out swords? The true steel has always been within you, always. Call my name, together we shall fight!**::

Byakuya closed his eyes, concentrating his reiatsu, and sure enough he felt a might upwelling within him and a presence that was at the same time both foreign and not, foreign in that it was not entirely him, but not in the same way that the image in a mirror is never truly unknown.

"Scatter! Senbonzakura!" he shouted.

Lighting flashed, dazzling the edges of a thousand, making the sky seem alive and alight as his spirit expanded outside of himself. As though his soul had grown a thousand tiny sensors, the world around him and everything in it became eerily clear, he could literally feel the presence of every single object around him. He pushed and pulled, moving his concentration in the world like pushing a hand through water and felt a dizzy delight as the slashing petals whirled about in respense to his will, ready to battle.

The killer leading the vanguard crested the top of the hill and Byakuya pushed at him, reaching out, reaching for blood. Crimson stained the pure white steel turning it pink, like a sakura petal. Another came, and more and more. Each time Byakuya pushed at them, surrounding them and spiraling inward, slicing the flesh away as drops of blood splattered into the air. He would allow no harm to come to the charge entrusted to him.

His concentration was kept fully on the attackers, fighting them off even when they got in close, determined to keep them away from Lady Renata and the unborn life she carried within her. He was so concentrated on his fight, that he failed to read the battle as he should have. There was a tremedous flash and a swell of reiatsu, Byakuya just barely managed to shield in time as the bolt of thunder from the heavens struck. It did not strike at him or even at Lady Renata, Byakuya was already defending against that, no, the bolt struck the side of the cliff just beneath him, above where the swelling river flowed. The ground weakened and gave way.

"No!" Byakuya shouted in denial as he turned and reached.

Too late. The rock cracked and slid into the water, with a scream, the young Gendai bride lost her footing and fell with it, her crimson hair disappearing into the churning white water below. She popped up for a second, then was lost in the churning white water of the rapids and over the side of the falls into the fat swollen belly of the mighty river. Furious, Byakuya pushed the edges of Senbonzakura out, seeking blood in retribution for his loss. The last of the assassins fell, but thought he desperately scanned the watters, and flash-stepped down as far as he could for as long as his reiatsu would support a globe of light bright enough to search by, he never saw her head reappear above water.

It was with a visage made cold and emotionless by shock and loss once more that he trudged wearily back to his ancestral estate to report the events of the evening to his grandfather. The Shiba's he'd found later, had reported the whole affair to the Head Captain and Central Forty-Six and had been sent into exile for their part in the loss of a Head of one of the Four Great Noble Clans. He wasn't allowed to know any of that until after the fact, for it was all handled by his grandfather and the elders.

The horrible events of that night did give him two things to keep with him however; the name of his Zanpaktou, and the knowledge that life was fleeting and that love was worth fighting for. On the day of his mentor's funeral, Byakuya Kuchiki went out into Rukongai, kidnapped his future bride and brought her with him to be at his side through the ordeal. Later that day, after it was all over with, he called his very first meeting of the House Elders and informed them that he had selected his bride. The wedding would be held when all the full and proper arrangements could be made, he was going to have a wedding that was done in the full, grand style of a noble scion, with announcements and food and festivities all properly befitting a Kuchiki. He would have no scrimping on the details, all would be done as though he were marrying into one of the highest houses in Seireitei. None of this skulking about like he had a secret to hide, and the House was going to support him in it or he would take the Sword of Byako and move out into the Rukongai to live with the Shiba's. The House supported him, if only because they felt that a concession early on might net them greater gains later, and they had heard of his prowess with Senbonzakura.

Hisana had hesitantly questioned his single-minded tenacity on having such a huge event, in fact, she found the whole prospect daunting.

"Jiroh Gendai hid his actions, preffering the keep his marriage a secret," he explained one night as they went over invitations together. "That opened up a vulnerability for his enemies to exploit. Because he treated it as a sort-of secret, his enemies could use that same covert action to secretly attack him when he was vulnerable. I will not allow the same thing to happen to me and to you. I will have the full protection of my name for you, my love. We will be married out in the open, in front of all the world to see, and they will all know that to attack you is the same as attacking me."

Hisana smiled and let him have his way. The brief, blissful years that followed, though they carried thier own share of troubles and greif were the happiest that he had ever been in his life. Byakuya Kuchiki would have given much to be with his beloved Hisana for even just one more hour, but subsisted soley on his memories of her and all the ghosts that wandered the halls of the manor.

The old head of the Clan, Rohku Gendai, had reluctantly resumed his place as acting Head of the Clan until the sword could sing out the legitimate successor. After an appropriate period of mourning, each member of the House Gendai, even the ones responsible for the violent coup, were tested by the Sword, but it did not sing for any of them. The old Head, having relinquished his power and position to his son, would not be able to re-assume the power of Head of the Clan, (not the true Power, anyway) so they had clung on from that day to this one, waiting for the true heir to appear and make the sword sing.

Byakuya Kuchiki was just as worried about the heir-less state of Gendai as they were, for without a scion of the Blood to wield the sword and power of that bloodline, the Four Noble Houses were short the Protection of the North. If one of the Old Powers should rouse from its slumber and test the bounds of its cage they were short one cardinal point in the sealing spell. Kuchiki had received the Mark of Byako as all legitimate successors of his line upon his ascension to his position as Head of the Clan and the assumption of his duties and responsibilities. Despite their flagrant dereliction of their duties and sacred positions, he knew that the Heads of the Shiba snd the Shihouin Clans also retained their respective Marks and that their great Sealing Swords still answered to their call. That did not change the fact that they were still one man short of a full Circle. It was something which had worried him these past decades. With all of the other recent upheavals to take place, the last thing they needed was one of the Old Powers waking up and noticing that the jail cell was short one of its locks. He was uncertain if they would be able to adequately Seal away one of the Old Powers if they did not have the full set of noble powers.


	5. Chapter 5

Renji tried not to feel too self-conscious or out of place being surrounded by so much finery. Really, he was only there for a short visit any way. However small and diminished his House had been, Kira Izuru had been of noble blood so the shrine that had been made to commemorate his deeds in the past war was located in the Hall of Remembrance in the noble house that his family had been attached to. Renji would have liked to be able to pay his respects quietly, as he had for Momo, but he'd had to request permission from the house and make an appointment and get entrance-papers for crying out loud. The clerk had actually been a friend of Izuru's family, and he knew of Renji in passing, so had kindly expedited the process so that Renji could pay his respects before he left for the Red-zone mission in the mortal world. He was glad of that because he really didn't feel like asking any favors of either Kuchiki right then, for different reasons.

After being led quickly through the entrance hall and past a small courtyard garden featuring a tiny pond large enough for one fish and a bamboo fountain Renji was led to the Hall of Remembrance. It was a long rectangular building with pillars around the outside painted emerald green, each of them topped with a very strange-looking guardian-luck-creature painted in gold-leaf at the crosspiece at the top of each pillar. It looked a little bit like a snake or maybe come kind of a serpent twining in and out of a turtle-shelll. On each side of the massive entrance door (also green-painted with geometric patterns in gold) was the more traditional guardian Foo Dogs, snarling with menace at any visitor with harmful intent. As always, Renji was inwardly tempted to snarl back at them and see if they'd react (they wouldn't of course because they were stone, but the temptation was there).

There was an old, old man with a long beard, a back stooped with age and a face withered like a dried potato in the sun sweeping up dust and imaginary leaves at the front steps of the hall. Renji paused to wait for him to finish his chore out of respect for his age, smiling politely at the old man. Raising his bent head from his task, the old man looked up at him and his face blanched dead white as his eyes widened in what looked to be shock... and was that recognition? Renji blinked, surprised when a moment later, the old man fell to his knees. Thinking that he had suffered some kind of accident or perhaps a stroke, Renji rushed over to help him. He was brought up short, flabberghasted, when the old man, far from dying, bent properly over and touched his forehead to the ground in between his hands. Renji's jaw opened in shock as the man said

"Waka-sama! Waka-sama! I _knew_ you would come!"

It took Renji a moment to get his over his surprise at being addressed as "the young master" but he hastened to clear up the old man's obvious mistake. He felt a little sad about having to do so, for as the old servant looked up at him, his eyes were over flowing with tears, and his face had the look of joy at being unexpectedly reunited with a loved one after a long absence.

"I, uh, I'm sorry ol' man, butcha got th' wrong guy 'm afraid," Renji said to him gently as he could, reaching down to try to pull the old guy back up to his feet before he got arthritis or something from kneeling on the floor.

The old guy babbled on, ignoring Renji's assertions.

"I knew this day would come! Everyone else mourned you as lost, but I knew! Why else would the sword not choose another successor? It was surely because Waka-sama was alive and would one day return to reclaim his position as Head of the Clan! I knew this day would come."

Renji scratched the side of his cheek, not having any idea of what to do with a poor, obviously half-blind or all-senile servant who seemed to have made perhaps the biggest gaffe of mistaken identity in the history of the Seireitei. It was so tragically pathetic an idea that it wasn't even laughable. Renji just felt bad for the old man, who was clearly in transports of joy over the discovery of his (probably long since dead) master.

"Oh I must tell the Family, they must come to greet you properly, and pay homage too!"

Renji's eyes widened.

"Uh, I really don't think you should do that," he hurriedly stopped the old servant, who had at last climbed to his feet and, still bowing, was turning to go do just as he had said he must.

"But a feast must be prepared and there will be a thousand preparations to make to welcome waka-sama back to his rightful-"

"I'm not the guy yer lookin' fer, ol' man!" Renji said, a little irritated at being bowed at.

The man kept trying to grab hold of the edge of his robe and the first time he'd kissed it had been the last time Renji had let him have it. Now the old guy was playing some strange game of tag with him for the privilege and it was just a bit _weird_.

"I have served this family for generations and waka-sama himself for many decades, you surely recall your faithful old Kimari, master, you must! Since that terrible night when they brought back your fake body there have been many terrible changes in this House but I know you will soon set all to rights. Master has the strong, firm hand of justice and might. A true Gendai, the mightiest of champions, you would not have fallen from something so small as a mere arrow."

Renji did not quite have the heart to tell him that a mere arrow could kill just as dead as any sword, as the Quincy would be the first to attest to.

_:Oh this is just so sad I can't even tell my friends about it_,: Renji thought feeling such pity for an old man who had clearly been taken from a position of honor within the household at the death of his old master and being given over to useless make-work. Renji knew how _that_ felt. He himself had lost his own rank and position and was now being sent into effective exile in shame.

"When you reclaim your rightful place master, I hope you will remember your faithful Kimari who has waited for you all these years."

_:What can it hurt,_: Renji thought. _:Chances are he's senile and will forget about it as soon as he turns the corner anyway.:_

"I'm sure your master will be very happy to know he has a good and loyal friend in you, Kimari," Renji said gently. "But unfortunately I'm not the man you think I am."

The old man scrutinized his with rheumy eyes for a moment and Renji had the hope that he had at last gotten through to him, but then the old mans face split into a wide grin and he cackled (actually cackled) and clapped his hands.

"Oh I see," he said with a conspiratorial wink at Renji. "Waka-sama is not the man I think he is. Master is wise and crafty, yes. I am your loyal servant, you can trust in me to keep my eyes and ears open to tell you who moves which way on the ends of that usurper's strings. When the time is right, we shall see. Yes indeed we shall."

"Huh-boy," Renji said, sighing heavily, giving up.

_:I hope I didn't just inadvertently start some kind of in-palace staff-revolution or something,:_ he thought as the watched the old man shuffling away with his broom, still cackling to himself.

Renji shook his head at such a strange event. Imagine, being mistaken for nobility. Him! That was so absurd that it wasn't even funny.

_:Crazy old man is clearly off his meds,:_ Renji thought with another shrug as he dismissed the event from his mind and got on with the purpose for his visit.

Once he got into the massive hall, Renji was made to feel quite small and kinda dirty (even though he'd showered and changed into clean clothes before coming) just by the sheer immaculate massiveness of the place. It was floored entirely in pristine, white marble polished to a glass finish that reflected the light of the sky-lights streaming down from above. The double row of green and gold pillars down the center only emphasized the enormity of the enclosed space.

It was a Hall. Lined on either side of it were Shrine-niches; each one had a tall square of polished white marble with a name carved into the front of it placed in front of a small hollowed-out niche in the wall above it like a back-splash that was carved and painted with an exquisite mural detailing the deed(s) that that person had been enshrined for. Resting on top of most of the Pillars was a single rack with a lone sword in it. After a closer look, Renji realized that most to the swords in the racks were actually empty sheaths with the kanji of a name carved and inlaid with gold near the hilt, after reading a few of them, Renji realized that they were the names of Zanpaktou. The rest had ordinary swords with simple handles or, in sme rare cases, an unfolded silk fan on display to represent that the one honored had been a civilian woman. The individual niches were broken at regular periods by ante-chambers filled with row upon row of funerary urns, each with a polished stone plaque bearing a name and a tiny place for offerings, Renji guessed that was where the family kept the ashes of those who did not warrant special shrines in their honor.

Renji tried not to feel self-conscious as his footsteps echoed and re-echoed in the long halls filled with dead heroes. He moved down and down and down looking for Kira's name and at last found it toward the end. The mural behind his niche detailing his brave deeds was not quite finished but Renji was pleased to see that the main family had not skimped on hiring a very fine artist to do the rendering. Renji knelt in front of the marble shrine holding an empty sheath with Wabisuke's name engraved on it and greeted his friend, lighting incense in the little burner and leaving an offering of Kira's favorite candies, the mint-chocolate ones.

"Hey man, sorry it took me so long ta come an' visit ya, but things have been hectic ever since th' war ended," Renji said.

He felt a little bit self-conscious about breaking the tomb-like silence of the hall but at the same time... Kira was always the one he talked to when he was troubled by events happening around him.

"If yer not already born inta yer next life I guess ya might still be in transit on the wheel. If so, I hope you can hear me. I miss ya buddy, things won't be the same here without you. Oh! hey, they got Madarame and Ayasegawa takin' up you an' yer captain's old spots. I guess if someone had ta replace you, I'm kinda glad it was them. The Despair Squad won't be the same, but maybe that's a good thing. I'm not sayin' that you didn't do a real good job with what you were given, but it's dangerous to skirt too close to despair, it can bleed over into your own heart all too easy. I ain;t the sort fer givin' in, but even I'm havin' a hard time now with the war over. I got demoted, busted all the way back down ta common Reaper. I dunno what I'm s'posed ta do now. I sure could use yer advice."

Renji sighed sadly. All around him was silence, and he felt as alone as if he were standing high up a remote mountain top. As a Soul Reaper he'd always thought that death shouldn't bother him and neither should loneliness, but he wasn't the type who took to solitude very well. He missed his pack brother.

"Ol' man Yama finally had a real good idea though, he promoted Lieutenant Ise to full Captain. Which is good because if anyone deserves the recognition, its her fer puttin' up with her old captain an' all his nonsense for who knows how long. If nothing else, it'll at least cut down on the sexual harassment."

He liked Kyoraku, everybody did, but he hadn't been so wild about his treatment of Ise Nanao. While part of him sort of agreed that she was too straitlaced and serious perhaps for her own good, he also knew that putting up with constant unwelcome advances, no matter how kindly meant, could wear on a person. Renji had spent the first of his formative years (before he'd had to make his own way on the streets of Inuzuri) as a work-boy in a Flower Garden, he knew knew for certain that the Madame would have had a few words to say about Kyoraku's behavior. if someone had ever attempted to treat Rukia the same way that Kyoraku treated Ise, they'd have been having a big problem with Renji Abarai quick, fast and in a hurry (captain or not).

"I guess I'm doin' okay. My fight with that last Espada took a lot out of me. My Reiatsu still ain't recovered, I got so much of it siphoned off in that last fight that I can't even communicate with Zabimaru. It'll all grow back in time of course, but in the meantime Captain Unohana's requested light duties for a while. Captain Kuchiki assigned me to the front though, I guess Sixth is so short on experienced Reapers that they're using all available hands regardless of medical requests. I suppose it's a good thing, fightin' in the feild will keep me from mopin' around here. Still... I wish you an' Momo were here, I could sure use yer advice."

Renji missed him. He missed them both. Sometimes it felt to him that, with everything else going on and everyone scurrying about to re-establish stability in the Seireitei, the fact that they were missing was overlooked by so many people. Sometimes he himself managed to overlook it, but then he would be doing something and come across a thought he might want to get Kira's opinion on, or a joke to share with Momo and then realize all over again that there would not be that moment later on when duties were done for the day and the three of them had gathered together to share thier thoughts and laughter. Renji thought he might have felt better if it had been a continual ache instead of this sorrow that receded but always came back when he did not expect it.

He had lost many who had been important to him, he had thought he knew the ways of grief. He knew that if he waited, time would eventually help abate it a little, even if it didn't erase it completely. He sort of knew this, but at the same time he was hurting, and he didn't know quite what to do with that hurt while it was so fresh. He had no-one to be strong for now so there would be none who would look down at him if he actually cried about it, but at the same time, Renji felt that if he allowed himself that sort of luxury, even for Momo and Kira, it would somehow lessen the status of those whose memories he carried with him that he had not been allowed to cry for. He missed their advice and companionship, Kira's easy acceptance of him and his support and friendship was very very difficult to do without after so long a time of living with it in Renji's life. So he paid his respects and turned to go, then realized that he was quite certain which end of the hall he had come from.


	6. Chapter 6

_:Well, I guess it's either one end of the hall or ther other,:_ he thought.

Right or left. He was about to play eeny-meeny-miney-moe for it, but then he could have swore that he saw something flicker out of the corner of his eye to the right, some kind of flutter of light or trick of shadow. He crept a little closer, feeling a strange inviting sort of _tugging_ feeling from somewhere within him. Renji shrugged picked right, and started walking. Some time later he came to a door that he assumed was the exit at the end of the hall and walked down the white marble steps that were inlaid with tiles of a pale green stone that Renji thought might actually have been jade. He pushed open the heavy door of wood inlaid with gold-brass patterns and walked out into... a place that was _not_ the way he had come.

It was outside in a garden, but he was sure that the previous little garden had had a little fishpond in it. This little garden was a single, neat white gravel path lined on either side with life-sized marble statues that led up to an open gazebo-shrine made of stone. The statues were of people in elaborate robes wearing accoutrements that clearly marked them out as nobility. There were tall, strong men with broad shoulders and slab-muscled torsos who would not have looked out of place in Eleventh Squad despite the finely carved kimono's they each wore. The women too, ran more to the voluptuous than the thin and delicate type. In an arch above each statue was suspended a golden gong with a symbol in the middle that looked like a turtle-shell as seen from above with an intricate knot-work of snakes entwined around the outside if it in a circle with their heads biting their tails. The entrance to the gazebo had a very very very large gong suspended above it.

_:Must've gotten turned around a bit,:_ Renji thought with a shrug, fully prepared to exit back the way he had come with no more intrusion into what looked like the private sanctuary of a noble house.

But then something caught his eye. The statue nearest the entrance to the gazebo on the right looked _familiar_! Glancing around to make sure he was alone, Renji promised himself he'd take just one quick peek and then get the hell out of there. After all, he hadn't been invited there and he had the feeling that the nobles would probably take a pretty dim view of their sanctuary being invaded by street trash like him. In fact, he'd be willing to bet that all the people whose likenesses those statues enshrined were probably rolling in their graves right that minute_._

_:Rollin' in their noble graves eh? Heh, sorta makes the whole thing kinda fun!:_ he thought to himself in amusement.

With a devious little grin to himself, Renji sauntered up the center of the aisle like he owned the place and stood in front of the statue that had caught his curiosity. When he stood toe to toe and eye to carved-stone-eye with it, Renji blinked quizzically and looked again more carefully.

"...the hell?" he muttered aloud in mystification, unable to believe it at first himself.

He circled around the statue taking in every detail. The proportions were right, minus a few details here and there (Renji had certainly never owned anything as fancy as what this guy was depicted wearing) but...

_:It's like lookin' in a mirror!:_ Renji thought in astonishment.

He squinted and took in the face of the carved marble stranger and reassessed his initial opinion. The statues hair was much shorter than his, cropped close to his head, and his facial features were blunter and more coarse, his cheekbones wider his chin a bit more square. But build for build they were the same, the same height (which was _rare_ for someone Renji's size, for he was taller than his own Captain) the same broad muscular shoulders, though Renji fancied that his own figure was more defined and supple under his clothes than whoever the be-robed statue was. They had the same wide, powerful hands and the same shape of the eye and brow. Unaccountably, Renji's heart started to beat a little faster, and he had the _strangest_ feeling in the pit of his stomach. His chest felt oddly tight as he stared back at his stone doppleganger.

The feeling of being on the edge of something big and somehow dangerous in some way dissipated like smoke on a breeze a moment later when light a pip-pip-pip-pipping sound broke the silence. A small brown bird flitted in to land on the head of the statue. Without regard for whatever august personage the stone had clearly been carved to immortalize, the bird chirped again, hopped twice, did its business, then took itself off. The incongruousness of the moment made Renji laugh out loud.

"Well my friend," he said with jovial humor to the nameless statue.

He struck of pose, mimicking the statue itself then made a face at it impertinently.

"I hope one day I look as good as you there immortalized in stone, lined up in state with all o' my fancy relatives."

He smirked at the man.

"Until then, I might be a stray dog from outta th' lowest o' th' low, but at least I'm not covered in birdshit."

Another brown little bird perched atop a different statue nearby cocked its little head and looked at him with its bright, beady little black eyes. Renji smiled sharply at it and patted Zabimaru, sheathed at his side.

"Don' even think about it," he told the bird.

As he turned to go, Renji felt the oddest sensation. It felt a little bit like a strange pulse suddenly thumped throughout his being. Renji frowned and eased a hand toward his sword, suspicious of unexplained phenomena happening in weird places. There was silence broken only by the light chirp of birdsong and after a moment Renji decided that he'd just imagined it. He turned to continue back towards the door that led out of that weird and somewhat creepy little statue- garden when he felt it _again_. A strange pulsing feeling a little bit like a sudden heartbeat reverberating through his entire being. He instinctively crouched low, flicking his blade loose in its sheath preparatory to drawing it, every sense alert to the slightest hint of danger. Wary of being so out in the open, Renji ducked inside the little stone gazebo to get his back to a wall and to ascertain that there were no ambushers hidden away in that shadowy little niche there.

After several long tense moments in which absolutely nothing happened, Renji wondered of maybe he wasn't letting the recent stress get to him.

_:Yeah, that's probably it,:_ he told himself. _:It's been nothing but non-stop thrills and excitement during the war and my body just can't seem to come down from its battle-high. Happens all the time, seen it in a thousand others.:_

Renji assiduously ignored the fact that he hadn't seen a fight in weeks because, as one of the soldiers in the thick of the fighting, Fourth Squad Captain Unohana had ordered him on medical leave for the weeks following the end of the war. He looked around him curiously, for the stone gazebo actually looked a lot roomier on the inside than it did on the outside, but that could have just been a trick of the thick shadows. It was all made of stone, polished to a mirror finish with words carved into the glassy surface of the stone, but it was too dim for Renji to make them out. The only thing inside the shrine proper was a raised circular platform of stone a little under chest height on him. In a shaft of pure white light, was a singular sword rack carved from jade of the deepest green in the shape of a turtle shell with snakes twining up out of it, the mouths of the snakes held a sword in them.

_:__**There's**__ a fancy sword for ya,:_ Renji thought admiringly.

The sheath was pure white with an opalescent quality to it, sort of a silvery-white glow almost. One side of the length of the scabbard was carved with a beautifully stylized depiction of a phoenix (Renji could tell it was the mythical bird because no other bird had that long, trailing feathered tail with flames around it) and a long, sinuous serpentine dragon swimming among waves was carved on the other side. The caps at the very end of the sheath and at the metal band just before the hilt were embossed with what looked to be a white tiger climbing a cloud. The hilt and handle was some silvery-metal, Renji suspected that it might actually be platinum or white gold. The handle was not wrapped with cloth but instead was carved, like artwork. The circular cross-guard to the fore of the handle was patterned to look like a tortoise-shell, silver inlaid with opal or white jade, the handle was carved to look like three snakes twining around each other with the heads interlocked at the pommel and the mouths biting into place an enormous faceted jewel as big as his fist and green as a treetop.

_:Sensing a theme here,:_ he noted dryly.

The sword sure looked pretty, but Renji'd bet that that was _all_ that it did. It was probably one of those art-work swords that nobles bought that they never used. He patted Zabimaru, he'd take a plain working blade over that white-gold chunk of tin any day of the week, that thing probably wouldn't cut through butter. He snorted a dismissal of nobles and their incomprehensible need to spend good money on useless crap that did nothing but look pretty, and turned to leave... when Renji was seized in the grip of a power that was unlike anything he'd ever sensed before. He'd felt some _powerful_ reiatsu in his time, Aizen in his crowning moment clashing with the Head Captain on a dusty plain being the finest example of raw limitless power he had ever felt before... until that moment.

This was power but on a different level an of an entirely different nature than Renji had ever sensed before. In a single instant, no longer than a heartbeat surely, it felt like his whole being had been taken apart at the molecules, turned inside out, picked over, scrambled about, scrubbed clean and then put back together again, each of them in a spot slightly to the right of the place it had been before.

Interwoven through these puzzling sensations was another odd one that made him feel sleepy. Renji had grown up on the hard, vicious streets of the outer districts, where even a young kid learned to nap like a cat, with one ear cocked for danger, and it was a habit he had not gotten out of in his career as a soldier for Seireitei. This was the reason why Renji had never developed the odd concept of "safety." For him, the idea of "safe" was always relative, and it was for that reason that the sensations trying to flow into his heart and mind were so very alien and esoteric. There was a little voice trying to whisper into his heart the idea that he was absolutely safe there and that there was nothing in the world that could harm him in that moment; these were comforting things, the things that a mother would whisper to her child after his having woken from a nightmare, the feeling of a parents arms wrapping around him and holding him close, protecting and sheltering him. Renji Abarai had never once had either things happen to him, so that voice trying to speak to him might as well have been speaking Arabic for all that he was prepared to understand it.

_:I should get the heck outta here, sumthin' weird's goin' on an' I'm not sure I want any part innit. Looks like trouble,:_ he decided.

Renji thought he'd ordered his feet to go in the direction of the door but he found them carrying him closer to the pedestal thing that held the useless white sword that seemed to being glowing by an odd trick of the light. As he drew closer to the sword he got a strange sleepy sort of feeling, relaxing and ever so slightly hypnotic. He felt warm, relaxed but strangely alert. Inside of his veins he could have swore that he felt his blood pulse and rush with a new awareness, tugging and urging him onward. It was the oddest thing, but the light glinting off the glow of the sheath seemed to be pulsing as well, strangely in time to his own heartbeat. Renji's thoughts faded to a background buzz and all he felt and all he heard was this strange sort of call from deep within him, like these was something in his soul that was about to be joined or rejoined with something that it had been made for. At any other time Renji would have snorted dismissively at such sheer nonsense, but to him, right then, it made _perfect_ _sense_. That feeling of warmth and relaxation was the closest thing he was able to understand to the concept that meant safety and belonging,

He watched with a distantly warm feeling of lassitude as his hand, like an entity completely separate from himself, reached out and took the sword by the handle while its mate grasped the spot on the sheath just to the fore of the blade. There was a ribbon of green that tied the sword closed and Renji somehow knew that that ribbon had been holding that sword closed for many decades while the sword awaited its new master. He watched in an oddly calm and detached fascination as the ribbon untied itself and fluttered to the floor. Somehow he had _known_ that it was going to do that, but he didn't quite know _how_ he knew. Just like he instinctively _knew_ that this sword wasn't a decoration but something he had been _called_ to that place for... perhaps even something he had been _born_ for. The part of his mind that usually held dominance but was now only a dim cotton-swathed flicker of thought would have dismissed that particular gem as being utterly ridiculous since he had no connection with any of the nobility besides Kuchiki, unless one counted his friendship with the late Kira Izuru. Certainly he did not have the kind of connection that would allow him to pick up priceless swords like he owned them, and he really should probably stop doing what he was doing. In fact, it would be better if he were _not_ doing it in the first place. It was impossible to fight against the strange feeling that had come over him however, and a hypnotized renji couldn't figure out why he should try.

He felt that pulse thump through him, lulling him, whispering to him that everything was alright, everything was exactly as it should be. Renji thought for a long moment about maybe fighting it, he knew he could resist the call if he wanted, but he felt an encouraging nudge from Zabimaru, not a spoken command, but a wordless piece of advice, everything was just as it was supposed to be. The last of his doubts faded. The sword had been waiting there for him, sleeping, waiting for the day when he its destined wielder would come to take up the call. He felt the strange calling rising and rushing through him with each low drumbeat throbbing through him and he followed his instincts.

A wordless basso voice, like the voice of the deep deep earth, the song at the heart of the mountain, filled his ears and his blood and his bones as he accepted his fate. He watched in solemn detached fascination as his left thumb flicked loose the blade. Renji rocked back on his feet when it felt like a gunshot went off inside him, his internal ears rang from the sudden throb-pulse of pure, raw magic, powerful as only the most _ancient_ of magic could be. His right hand slid the blade cleanly out of its sheath, his reflection stared back at him for one long, wonderstruck moment for as he slid the blade free he felt something in his soul that he had not felt since the first time he had ever shikaied Zabimaru. Belonging. His soul felt like it flew apart for one instant then imploded back together again, but where there had been empty places before there was now something there... duty, pride, family, honor.

As the steel, so the soul.

It had _always_ been there, but it required its tithe of blood, the same blood that his ancestors had paid every generation upon generation since the first had been chosen and the pact sworn. He wasn't certain where the knowledge came from for as far as Renji was concerned he never had any ancestors to speak of, but it was there all the same as if it had always been there and he'd simply just _forgotten_ it for a time. Renji set aside the sheath and pulled the diamond edge of the mirror-bright blade along in a shallow slash across the palm of his hand. It should have stung but all he felt was a strange rushing white heat fusing into the very marrow of his bones as he clasped his hand over the runes of white fire etched at the base of the blade near the hilt. His skin glowed green-white for a moment, then lines of light wrote a vaguely familiar symbol on the palm of his hand and the entire blade glowed in answer with the same light. Power rushed into, through him, around him and out of him with the unstoppable might and fury of a landslide. He and the blade were one, bonded to each serve the other in a way that he did not even share with Zabimaru. That bond and service existed because it was needed, he served something _greater_ than himself, something even greater than Soul Society, something even greater than humanity, and those duties would forever take second place to this when the time came. That was why he was called and why he was Chosen.

As if in answer to the quasi-joyous feeling of bound completion within his soul, the walls and roof above him rang out with great chiming notes to announce his ascension.

_:Huh?:_ Renji thought cluelessly, suddenly snapping awake as consciousness flooded him and he looked around in bewilderment, wondering what had just happened to him.

He couldn't even quite call what he'd experienced a day-mare, it was like that instance when one snapped awake from the edge of a sleep that they hadn't been aware had crept up on them and they couldn't quite recall what had woken them, just that there had been _something_. Renji tried, muzzily, to decide if he'd imagined that something had happened or if he really had sensed anything at all.

_:Last thing I knew I was walking into this shrine place... why can't I recall anything of what happened after that? What in the hell's going on?!:_

He blinked and looked around him, as if he had suddenly woken up from a dream when he couldn't remember ever having fallen asleep. There was a sword in his hand, not Zabimaru. How had that gotten there? There were alarm bells going off. His eyes widened in panic as he reacted to the gut-deep instinct of a thief born and raised on the streets. He snapped the unfamiliar sword back in its sheath and put it in the holder where he'd found it. He couldn't even recall much after ducking inside the gazebo, how and when had he taken up that sword?! In a panic over possibly being arrested for trying to steal a priceless heirloom (he didn't think they'd believe the excuse that he didn't know how he'd gotten there or what he'd been doing with the sword in his possession) Renji got the hell out of dodge before the guards could come looking for him.

_:Shi-i-i-it!:_ he thought as he scaled the wall in a blur of motion before anyone could come looking for him.

Renji quickly flash-stepped the hell out of the estate in the next blink, skipping across the rooftops of the Seireitei not slowing down for a second until after he had reached what he'd judged to be a safe distance. He gasped for breath against the sudden instinctive swell of panic he'd felt; his ingrained thieves instincts about alarm bells and getting caught with his hand in the merchants pouch were simply too deep for him to react in any other way.

_:But there was __**something**__...:_ Renji thought in mystification.

There was a feeling there, like that last lingering trace of the dream ones feels upon waking, a feeling at the edge of sleep. There had been something. Something terribly important, something he wasn't supposed to forget.

_:Yer definitely just imagining it, Renji:_ he told himself. _:Gotta be war-stress or sumthin' maybe Unohana's right an' you should take it easy fer a while.:_

After all, he had nothing to do with nobility outside of his connection with Rukia. Certainly he shouldn't go playing around with their expensive, useless trinkets.

He pushed aside any lingering doubts about that assessment, it _had_ to have been a dream after all. Some kind of weird stress-induced day-mare. Renji briefly wondered if he should visit Fourth Squadron but decided against it; he wasn't one of those mental little wussies that was forever darkening the doorstep of the good doctors with all sorts of imagined illnesses and stresses. He was due to move out in another day or so, he should probably finish topping off his supply list for the mission. He wasn't really an avid shopper, but Renji felt that getting out of the Seireitei might just be a good idea right then. Just in case.


	7. Chapter 7

The meeting to debate and decide upon the candidates for the new members of the Central 46 had just been called to a close. This time Lady Shiba had spoken out against some of the candidates presented by the shadow cabal trying to attain power in Seireitei. She had access to information from outside of the walls that even Byakuya Kuchiki had not, and had shot down three candidates in a row on the basis of them violating one of the major rules of Seireitei... no nobleman was to directly interfere in events and circumstances out in Rukongai, excepting where it directly affects his/her Family and Clan. There was indirect involvement aplenty and there always had been, but direct involvement was forbidden. A noble could not, for example, own and operate a mine staffed with poor starving children from Rukongai and keep all of the profits and treasures for the benefit of his house (which had been what the first candidate had done). They could not own sweat shops where helpless rukongai orphans were forced to labor at making materials for the benefit of one man or Family.

The rules often existed for a reason. Many were the people who lived outside the walls who likely saw the nobles living inside the walls safe, well fed, and never lifting a finger to aid those outside the walls, but there were reasons for that. Nobles were born into the Seireitei mainly because they had spiritual power, granted, there were those on the outside who were born with it, but in comparison to the number of souls who came into soul society outside of the gates who did not posses spiritual power, their number was very small. If one wanted to look at it one way, Seireitei acted as something of a quarantine zone, keeping those with great spiritual power from inadvertently hurting those souls with little spiritual power. Direct interference was forbidden because it was too easily taken advantage of. If the ambitions and desires of the few were not reigned in tightly by Laws that held the powerful accountable, it was the many who would suffer. That was the rule that Kuchiki lived by and believed in.

_:And those rules must be obeyed, to the letter,:_ he reminded himself sternly, ignoring, by dint of long practice, the pang of regret.

_:He made his decision. He knew what the consequences would be when he abandoned his post in the middle of war-time to go and protect Rukia in her journey to Hueco Mundo and he made his choice to go regardless. It is my duty as a Captain of the Court Guard Squads and a nobleman to uphold the Seireitei Law.:_

That did not necessarily mean that he had _liked_ what Law had forced him to do. It was easier to see the look of dejection (if not regret) and sorrow on the face of a man who had snapped at his heels for decades than it had been to watch his sister accept her condemnation... but not by much.

He had _not_ developed a soft spot for his erstwhile young former lieutenant; his voice was loud and his accent inelegant (and he refused to drop that awful street-cant of his) his manners unrefined, his attitude at once too cheerful and a trifle too defiant. Renji Abarai might defer to Byakuya Kuchiki as his captain, and to a degree to him personally because of their differing stations, but Kuchiki had the measure of the man... even when Renji bowed his head, his back was straight. He might be forced to defer to him, but Renji would never be cowed. Abarai respected Kuchiki, but only because he felt that Byakuya was naturally a man who deserved his respect. The redhead was a little intimidated by him, but only enough to make him wary of crossing his superior. If he weren't dense as a rock, Renji might have made a worthy opponent. As it was, their strange relationship relied on a great deal never being openly said or acknowledged to work. Reni's real ambitions (ie. his feelings for the younger, adopted Kuchiki sibling) were among those things not openly spoken of.

:_As it stands at this moment, I'd arrange a match between them myself if it meant that I would not have __**that man**__ with a way into the Kuchiki Clan,:_ Byakuya Kuchiki thought, his neck muscles tightening in anger at the thought of the viper trying to invade his nest.

Sakujun Gendai, the young man who was heir-apparent to the leadership of the Gendai Clan until the sword sang out the legitimate successor, was a man that Byakuya Kuchiki considered an enemy. The man was not aware that Byakuya considered him so, for he was very careful to hide his feelings (and when a Kuchiki hid their feelings they stayed hidden!). As it stood, the young man thought that he was currently running a successful campaign to arrange a marriage-alliance between himself and Kuchiki's younger sister. Sakujun thought he had every advantage and negotiated on an equal footing with him (and certainly those foolish Clan Elders approved of the match), he thought that Byakuya Kuchiki reluctantly but silently approved of the match because of the man's carefully cultivated reputation. He did not know that Byakuya Kuchiki would slit his own throat before he would let that two-faced conniving wolf marry into a position of privilege within his own Clan, and certainly not to his wife's little sister, whom Hisana had asked him to protect.

_:It is a bit of a tricky situation,:_ he mused to himself.

In order to shoot down the match, as he had every intention of doing (Sakujun could marry his sister only over his own dead body, and the Head of Clan Kuchiki knew for damned certain that if Sakujun could have contrived it, he would have done so) Byakuya Kuchiki had to have a good reason for doing so, and the clever little bastard had not presented him with one yet. He had acted every inch the well-raised, gentleman of good breeding. There were no indiscretions, no troubling rumors to trace back to him. There was no reason for the Head of Clan Kuchiki to object, not overtly, and there was not a better match for her anywhere else either. The man was a scion of one of the noble clans, a man of good standing and good breeding with impeccable references of character. Byakuya Kuchiki _loathed_ him, and it looked like the match would have to go through unless he found a reason to prevent it. Since the man wasn't likely to slip up and reveal what even Byakuya Kuchiki only suspected was there rotting beneath the surface of that urbane mask, then he might be welcoming in a new little brother.

Byakuya Kuchiki knew that the moment he had the viper under his roof, the snake would set his designs on finding a way to get rid of the Head of Clan Kuchiki.

_:I wonder if I might subtly hint that she could run away with Renji again,:_ he thought in private amusement.

He'd never actually _do_ it of course, bending the rules when it came to the Soul Reapers was different from violating the rules of inter-clan marriage arrangements. Taking advantage of his young former-Lieutenant's overwhelming loyalty to his sister to ensure that she had someone to watch her back in a war-zone (and he refused to feel guilty for doing so) was vastly different from manipulating that same loyalty and the deep love that he knew Renji felt for Rukia to Kuchiki's own purposes. For one thing, if the two of them eloped it would bring dishonor on both her and the family; Rukia wouldn't allow that even if Renji would, and Byakuya would be honor-bound to stop them, even if he didn't really want to.

_:But just about __**anyone**__ would be preferable to her marrying that Sakujun Gendai,:_ he thought to himself in carefully concealed frustration.

It was a quandary. Fortunately it was one that could wait, and perhaps would not even be a problem at all. After all, the man had yet to present himself officially to Byakuya to request permission to court his sister with intention to wed, perhaps something more advantageous might come along. It wasn't likely however, even if it was by mere adoption, Rukia was currently the second in line with regards to position within the Clan and if Sakujun married her, he would receive the same standing as his wife. Still, there was time. No official movements had been made, Byakuya still had time to confirm what he only suspected about the man. And if his intuition was correct... they had a score to settle.

Shiba had just shot down the last candidate for the evening and the council called to adjourn by the speaker, when the chambers resonated with the deep and joyous sound of a gong ringing out. Kuchiki felt the power of Earth _thump_ through him at the first note that sounded, fading to a wash of sensation at each succeeding peal. Genbu had Spoken! The successor to the name and, more importantly, the Power of Gendai had been Chosen. He glanced quickly over to Shihouin and Shiba to ascertain whether they too had sensed it, and saw from the incredulous and relieved expressions they wore that his assessment was not mistaken.

Byakuya Kuchiki then looked to the north, where the members of the House Gendai and all of its vassals were seated. Seated, in this case, would be a relative term. All of them down to the last man had shot to their feet at the sound of the gong going off, announcing the the Head of Clan Gendai had been Chosen (and without any of them there to greet him properly too!) Rohku Gendai was shouting above the general pandemonium that ensued every lord and nobleman scrambling from thier place to get out as quickly as possible to see who it was that had become the legitimate successor. The reactions (aside of surprise and confusion as each asked a neighbor who it could possibly have been since any noble with even _pretensions_ to Gendai blood were all within the council chambers) ranged from joyous with relief to irritated at missed opportunities. Byakuya Kuchiki focused on one face in particular, wanting, in this one unguarded moment when all was chaos, to confirm something to himself. He watched the face of Sakujun Gendai, the heir presumptive (until the moment that the sword sang) to the leadership of Clan Gendai.

If ever there was a moment that his _true_ face would be revealed it would be this moment. He was an adept politician, and infernally clever as well, he might hide behind that mask of noble urbanity but Byakuya Kuchiki had always sensed the jaws of a hungry predator in him. Jiroh Gendai had died "by the machinations of a man who had poisoned himself in a fit of guilt over his actions," when the attempted coup fell through leaving the Clan (oh so coincidentally!) without an heir. In the aftermath of the struggle to cleanse the household of the rebels, this man had shown up from one of the estates in the countryside that housed cadet (and therefore unimportant) branches of the family. He had helped his grand-uncle, Rohku, to clean house, and stayed behind to help the aging man run the family. At all times he had been beside and slightly behind the throne making sure that matters were run smoothly and well. He was above suspicion, his actions, however minor, the epitome of nobility and familial duty, completely above reproach. And yet...

_:__**There**__ you are,:_ Byakuya Kuchiki thought with a grim satisfied triumph.

It had been little more than a flicker. His face had paled with thwarted rage, his mouth twisted into a repressed snarl of pure hatred, his eyes narrowed, turning cold and dead. His fists clenched, one of them had made and aborted movement toward a hidden dagger.

There was the face of the man who had manipulated a faction consisting of a third of his family into a murderous slaughter of a further half of the Gendai Clan (in their beds, many of them helpless women and their infant heirs) then ruthlessly and tidily led a man-hunt by the rest to "exterminate the rebellion." All so that he could move into his current position. He was the man responsible for the assassination of Jiroh Gendai, Byakuya's friend.

_:We have a score to settle, you and I,:_ he thought at the face of the traitor.

In his life Byakuya Kuchiki could count the number of people whom he truly considered to be a friend to him on one hand and still have fingers to spare. As unlikely a type of man as Jiroh had been for the position, Byakuya had held him in high esteem. His loss was one that bothered the Head of Clan Kuchiki to this day. On that night when he held the cooling body of a man whom he had called friend and thought of as an older brother in his arms he had sworn that he would find the man responsible and bring him to face justice. After many decades, he now at last knew for certain what he had only slowly come to suspect... he knew the face of his enemy. It would not be long before he would have his sword at that man's throat.

"You saw him," Byakuya asked of a nearby shadow.

"I did, Byakuya-bo," the shadow confirmed, solidifying into the kimono-clad form of the Head of Clan Shihouin.

Her husband stood beside her, looking as unkempt and utterly brilliant as he always did.

"The nerve of him," another voice, feminine but rough and fierce, said scornfully.

"Not very bright of him to leave the old man alive in his little coup I gotta say," the Head of Clan Shiba commented as they all of them watched their target's face come back under his control with all the seasoned aplomb of a noh actor putting on his mask.

"He most likely thought that the whole "singing sword" business was nothing more than a bit of mummery that clan heads indulged in before anointing their successors. Joke's on him that it's serious business. Serves him right that he couldn't get appointed the legitimate successor without it," Shiba said, with satisfaction.

In all the long history of Seireitei, no-one had _ever_ been allowed to assume the position of Head of a True First Noble family without the Clan Sword singing for them.

"Shall we go see who the new sucker is that got picked?" Yoruichi asked, ostensibly to her husband, but also to the other Clan Heads.

They might pretend otherwise, but he knew that they were as relieved as he was to have that final position filled. Byakuya Kuchiki had worried about that vulnerable, open spot on the north of their Circle. Now that the sword had at last sung, it would not matter if one of the Old Powers rose, they would have the manpower to deal with it, as the Noble Clans had always done.

With a look and a gesture he had a few of his house guard to escort his younger sister home, then left with the rest of the Heads of Clan to welcome their fourth member into their circle. They let the flowing crowd of the nobility of the north carry them along without fuss. The members of the lesser nobility milled about speculating and debating over just whom it might be, they knew that the nobles of the Main House would announce the legitimate successor from the south balcony over the wall of their estate once they had confirmed his or her identity, but it was still fun for them to speculate. Most thought that it must be some child gotten on a woman of the nobility in secret (Jiroh had been notorious for being in and out of the beds of the daughters of the lesser houses... and the wives too!) then passed off as the son of the man they were already married to.

"What do you think of that?" Yoruichi asked of Kuukaku indicating the speculations.

"Possible," the eldest of the Clan Heads, Lady Shiba, replied in a considering tone. "You know the boy loved his women."

"Frequently and with enthusiasm is what I'd heard," Yoruichi said with a crooked grin.

The two of them shared a very female look, and Byakuya vowed then and there he was never going to speculate or bring it up. _Ever_.

"But why wouldn't this prodigal progeny of his have come forward sooner?" Yoruichi wondered. "I can see why he wouldn't have moved right away seeing as there had just been a violent upheaval in his Clan, but why not come forward after all of the supposed "rebels" had been dealt with? The only thing he accomplished by waiting was for that man to get all of his people put into place."

Byakuya Kuchiki nodded agreement with what she had not bothered to take the time to say out loud. The new legitimate successor had just become, in essence, the new target on the haystack. He wouldn't have a cadre of personal guards whom he could entrust with his life to protect his back, and anyone that was assigned by House Gendai (and essentially by Sakujun Gendai) would probably take the first opportunity to stick a knife in it.

_:Most likely one of us will have to "take him in for training in his duties" or some other such pretext to get him out of harms way while Rohku Gendai is able to select his personal guard.:_

Mostly, the Four Noble Houses never interfered in the doings and machinations of the others, save through marriage alliances and the like, taking such a step in the training and education of a member of a noble house was unusual, and perhaps a bit insulting to that house, but these were desperate times. The other three clans could ill afford to wait another decade or two for another legitimate successor to appear if this one got killed off. Most likely it would fall to him to take in the new kid and show him the ropes. Despite the Wind Clan and the Earth Clan (Kuchiki and Gendai) being absolute opposites, fully as much as fire and water were, his was the one that had the best relationship with them.

"What's he going to be like I wonder," Yoruichi said softly.

"Keh," Kuukaku Shiba scoffed at this. "You know as well as I that Clan Heads run to a type, the sort that our true masters always look for."

Byakuya allowed himself a small smile at this. Yes certainly Clan Heads were nearly always direct descendents, but not always. Byako, Guardian of the Winds, had skipped a generation when he had passed over Byakuya's father for himself. The Guardians all Marked their Chosen based on the fibre of the soul, on those whose inner nature and temperament was a match for them. They never picked falsely, this was a truth that the Seireitei was built on.

Byako, the Guardian of the Winds tended to chose a type that ran to the icy calm, the coolly intellectual. Mutable Seiryu, the Guardian of the Waters, whose very nature was change, chose from those of a more playful and capricious nature. Fiery in all of its meanings, Suzaku, Guardian of the Flames, chose those whose temperaments and personality reflected the flickering explosive nature of its element. And Genbu, Guardian of the Earth, chose those of great love for the earthy delights, not just of flesh or food or comfort, but most notably of the fine steel of the warriors arts. Wind, Water, and especially Fire might epitomize the warriors arts in thier own ways, but if one wanted and enemy pounded flat until it could not move any longer... one called in Genbu's Chosen and let him go at it.

"He'll be a brawler, just like his father," Yoruichi predicted with a note of wry resignation in her tone.

Once upon a time, she had enjoyed playing games of catch as catch can with the Gendai too, but in his methodical plodding way he had been more immune to her attempts to drive him crazy that the then-young and temperamental heir-to-be of Kuchiki. Gendai was the clan of the ground fighters, the warrior-chosen, blessed with raw physical strength and endurance. Where the other Clans were known for their skill at kido, or flash-step (or the ninja-assassin skills of the Shihouins) or tactical brilliance, Clan Gendai had raw physical power and all the physical endurance of a mountain.

"So then, I take it the former master found a woman from Eleventh Squad," Urahara joked from behind his fan.

"Are there even women in Eleventh Squad?" Shiba questioned.

"Yes," Yoruichi, said ending with the punch-line to the old joke. "But they are indistinguishable from the men."

It was with light spirit then that the four of them approached the gates to the Man House of Gendai and were let in as a matter of course (for who would want to offend all three Clan Heads) by a harried-looking servant. The place was in an absolute uproar, people, both dressed in the livery of servants and dressed in the finer robes of their masters, scurried hither and yon shouting out orders and questions both that were disregarded in the general melee. After a few long moments of letting the chaos flow around them, the party of four managed to glean enough information from the general babble to make sense of things a little.

"Well, now that is unexpected," Urahara said, sounding deviously amused as always.

"My my," Yoruichi shared a smile with her husband.

The demon-cat had truly found her match with that one, only a man like that and a woman like that would find a situation like this to be fun. Kuchiki frowned.

"We all heard the bells toll, the main gong of Gendai's inner Sanctuary definitely rang out the announcement of the legitimate successor..." Kuchiki said, trying not to sound uncertain.

They had all definitely _heard_ it. And as the Heads of the Clans they had also _felt_ it as well, deep within the separate sanctuaries of their clans they had each felt their Clan Sword react to the choosing of the legitimate successor of Gendai. They knew that one of the four sacred relics within the shrine, one for each of the clans, had rung out the choosing of the new successor.

But according to the rest of the household, when they had entered the sanctuary to discover who it was that the sword had sung for, the shrine had been empty. There had been no-one about and though the sword had sung, the person who had made it sing was not to be found. The ribbon that had sealed the sword shut for decades had been untied on the floor, conclusively evidencing the fact that there had been _someone_ there and that someone had woken the sleeping relic. Right now it was pandemonium as people looked frantically about for who it might have been, questioned the servants about who had been let into the shrine that day.

"Huh, it doesn't look like we'll accomplish anything here then," Yoruichi murmured with a shrug. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until they figure it out."

She grinned over at Byakuya.

"_Or_... you could just set that strong young lieutenant of yours and his sensitive nose on the hunt, and track the culprit down!"

"That's _former_ lieutenant," he corrected stiffly.

Part of him was still twinging at the necessity of stripping the young man of the rank Kuchiki knew that he had worked so hard to attain. Byakuya knew that part of the reason why he had felt guilty was because the necessity of doing so was partly (somewhat) his own doing. The Head of Clan Kuchiki had known that Rukia would go, even if he hadn't subtly helped her along, but as her older brother (who could not interfere in her decisions as a Soul Reaper) he had not wanted her to go alone to face danger and death so he had given his little hint while his Lieutenant was in ear-shot, perfectly well aware that Renji's first loyalty would always be to Rukia, and that if she was going in to face danger then he was going to be right there beside her. Byakuya had known this perfectly well, had counted on their bond to relieve his own conscience. That was why it was trying to bother him now, even if he had known that Renji would not let Rukia go alone, he had also known that he would have to punish his lieutenant for his actions, and yet he had used him anyway.

_:Of course, in a way, I suppose I am paying for it too,:_ Byakuya thought to himself.

His current lieutenant was somewhat incompetent and had gotten the position because Clan Kuchiki owed his family a favor. Byakuya Kuchiki personally suspected that Morii Korin's loyalties lay elsewhere. He didn't like or trust the man, but he couldn't afford to replace him right away either. Morii Korin was no great leader of men, but when it came to manipulating bureaucracy, he was a veritable wizard. The fact remained however, that even if Byakuya was forced by necessity to leave the day-to-day running of the squad to him while he attended these important meetings, he still didn't feel the man could be fully trusted. Sometimes, one reaped what one sowed.

"So you really did demote him..." Yoruichi said. "Rukia mentioned you had. She seemed upset about it."

"It was necessary," Byakuya replied, ignoring another minor little pang at the mention of his sisters upset. No doubt she took the guilt for that one onto herself too.

"I've met the boy a time or two," Shiba said unexpectedly. "He didn't seem to me to be the sort of man who stayed down for long."

"He has already accepted his next mission," Kuchiki said.

"Was that a note of pride I heard in his voice?" Yoruichi asked Kuukaku.

"It sounded like it to me," the Shiba agreed.

"I second the opinion," Urahara chimed in.

"It's settled then, Byakuya-bo is definitely proud of his subordinate."

To deny it would make them tease him more, to confirm it would not shut them up either, so Kuchiki said nothing save

"He is under orders from Fourth to be given light missions for the next while. He pushed his bankai to the limit during the last battle and his spiritual pressure has yet to recover, no matter what he says."

"And he's still so new to bankai too," Yoruichi confirmed the medical assessment. "He uses it like it's no big deal to him, but overuse when developing skills can strain muscles. Captain Unohana's right to be cautious right now. The last place Abarai needs to be is in an active battle zone."

"Thank you for your words of advice, but I am perfectly well ware of the needs of my subordinate squad members and can run my squad perfectly well," Kuchiki said stiffly.

He decided to ignore the little voice that cautioned him that he had been forced to turn over the day-to-day running of his squad to his new Vice Captain for the duration of the Seireitei Council Meetings to decide upon the new members of the Central 46. Kuchiki had not seen the inside of his own office for nearly a week, and would not be within his squad hall for anything barring an emergency. He would have to trust to his fearsome reputation and his new Vice-Captains (hopefully) impeccable skill at managing people to keep order in Sixth while he was gone.

That really, _really_ bothered him.

"So I assume you've assigned him to paperwork then," Shihouin said.

"A light-mission in the mortal realm. Sixth has a new batch of raw, untested recruits that require further training than the very basics supplied by the academy. It will keep him busy."

Busy and out of public scrutiny. In this case Byakuya wanted his hot-tempered young lieutenant out of the way of possible harm... more out of concern for anyone foolish enough to pick a fight with Abarai than worry over Renji's well-being. Out of sight and out of mind would be the best solution all around, at least until Renji had finished licking his wounded pride. The demotion had dealt a demoralizing blow to the young man, and Byakuya wanted to give him time to recover from it without any outside interferrence. Once Renji was feeling better he could start to engineer the young man's career to suit Byakuya's designs for him, but until then, having the young man tucked safely out of harms way keeping busy at tasks he was suited to was the best think he could think of to do with a strong (even admittedly somewhat talented) fighter that was probably nursing a chip on his shoulder.

"Is that so?" Urahara asked, eying him keenly.

"The running of my squad and the doings of its members are not your concern. We should be trying to find out who the new Gendai Clen Head is," Kuchiki reminded him.

"I don't think we'll be finding out anything in this mess," Shihouin said, gesturing at the pandemonium going on around them.

"I suppose we shall simply wait until the announcement is made," Kuchiki said, pivoting on his heel and walking off.

"You're no fun, Byakuya-bo," Yoruichi called after him. "You should set your blood hound on the chase."

Now he would certainly do nothing of the sort. Besides, relations between him and his former lieutenant were... strained. They'd never been bosom companions before (and Byakuya was actually glad of that fact) but they'd understood one another. Kuchiki liked to think that even if Renji carried a grudge, he at least understood the reasons behind what he had done as a captain. Even so, Byakuya couldn't see himself personally walking up to the sulking young man and requesting personal favors right then. Renji would probably just happily turn him down anyway.

Besides, as the House in question, the right to discover thier own legitimate successor rightfully belonged to Clan Gendai.


	8. Chapter 8

_:There's nothing unusual about an old friend calling on another old friend for a visit,:_ she told herself as she fussed with her appearance in front of the mirror, checking the fall of her summer yukata and trying to judge if this one flattered her better or if she should change back into the blue one.

_:In fact, it would be odd if I __**didn't**__ go and see him now that I have a little free time,:_ she told herself reassuringly.

No that was definitely _not_ a tense feeling in her stomach. It was just Renji for crying out loud, so there was absolutely no reason at all that she would feel nervous over a simple visit. It wasn't even like she was finding an excuse to go see him or anything... she glanced at the tiny basket of taiyaki. The cook had just made extra that was all, and she had already had her fill so there was no reason why she shouldn't share the bounty with someone who would appreciate them. She just didn't want to waste food that was all.

It wasn't like she was rushing right over the instant she got a free moment. She had been doing _important_ things for the last hour that morning. She had been meaning to check the yukatas over anyway to see which ones she would keep and which she would donate so it was just a coincidence that she was wearing her nicer one. The one that flattered her figure and complexion the best.

Should she wear hair accessories? She had a few pins and clips that she had picked out with Orihime in the Mortal World, maybe she'd wear something cute today? After all, there was no point in wearing a lovely yukata if she didn't have something nice to go with it. Not that she cared if he noticed or anything, and it wasn't like she expected him to compliment her. Renji was so very eminently a _guy_ after all, so she wasn't going to feel slighted if he didn't say anything about them. So it definitely wasn't for his benefit.

She fussed for a moment with her long bangs, carefully parting them a little differently from the way she normally did to see if it made any difference and she was pleased to note that she did seem to look a little cuter, especially when she slid the clips with their little jeweled flowers on the ends of them into place and secured them there. Maybe just a hint of lip gloss, not the colored kind, it wouldn't do to look like she was wearing lipstick or anything.

_:It's just that I can't find my chapstick and it's very hot out there,:_ she said to herself as she carefully applied it an ignored the fact that her chapstick was in the second hand drawer of her vanity.

She surveyed herself in the mirror one last time and picked up the little basket of offerin- um, _leftovers_ and headed out. At first she headed toward the offices of Sixth Squad before she remembered that, since he was no longer her brother's lieutenant, there would be no reason for him to be cooped up there all day. She closed her eyes for a moment and deftly searched out his reiatsu, one that she knew as well as she knew her own. Rukia's brow furrowed in puzzlement at first because... it felt _different_.

Reiatsu was like a muscle, once one had the ability use to use it at all, one had to work it _consistently_ and well in order for it to develop. Her own reiatsu muscle was geared more toward fine control than sheer power, but once Renji's muscle got past its initial development stage in the Academy, it had grown under his conditioning by leaps and bounds until, a mere few decades later it was up to the level of a lieutenant (perhaps even higher than that). The strength of the reiatsu muscle could vary from person to person (Ichigo's freakishly mad powerhouse was one of the rare flukes of spiritual power) but once the spiritual power started to develop, while its size and strength could change the "scent" of that spiritual pressure never did. Not even after a reaper achieved bankai did the nature and _feel_ of the spirit power alter in even the slightest way. One's reiatsu was one's reiatsu.

_:But that can't be right,:_ Rukia thought in mystification as she double checked the reiatsu that she was nearly certain was his.

She knew Renji's soul-scent as well as she knew her own, she had grown up around it, and even if she had lived alone in the Kuchiki Manor in the decades after she had been adopted, when she was out in the Seireitei she had always been able to "look" around for it and pick it up. The more powerful he had become, the easier it had been for her to detect it until checking for him when she was out on errands simply became second nature to her. She knew his soul-scent that smelled like the forest after a rain mixed with the dry-heat scent of the desert and the slightly spicy scent of sun-warmed stone. Those scents were there, but they were different, stronger somehow but ever so slightly altered, and it felt like there was another scent interwoven with it, the smell of mountains or green grasses in a feild, or maybe the scent of freshly turned moistened and rich earth ready for planting. She definitely felt his reiatsu, or at least she was nearly certain it was his, but how was it possible that it was different? Rukia walked over to check for herself.

_:Idiot,:_ she thought to herself with what was definitely not a note of fondness.

He was sleeping in a tree. She wasn't sure where he had picked up such an odd habit, Rukia thought that it might be an odd manifestation of the nature of his Zanpaktou for he had been doing it since the first day of the academy. She had heard that there were a number of snakes that made their homes in trees. Rukia had yet to see what his manifestation looked like, though Ichigo and Yoruichi both had teased her about having already seen it.

_:Really! You'd think he'd have been eager to show something that important to his oldest friend!:_ she thought to herself with what was definitely _not_ the feeling of being slighted.

She could make allowances for extenuating circumstances, but he had _yet_ to show it to her. Ichigo and Yoruichi had gotten to see it, he should be sharing with his best friend. That was what best friends were for. (She had heard that it was big and fluffy...)

_:Then again, if it's a snake maybe he should just keep it to himself,:_ she thought a little queasily.

She'd eaten too many snakes as a child to be very frightened of them, but she didn't keep them as house-pets either.

He slept with the same balance of a sleeping jungle cat, and made what should have been a precarious perch in the fork between a tree-limb and the trunk look natural and easy. Rukia knew that, unfairly, if she were to try the same thing she'd be tempting fate with a broken neck. Rukia assiduously pretended not to hear the newly awoken little voice that was aware of a man who had previously been her best friend (and so therefore, as likely a source of romance as a tree-stump) in an entirely _different_ and discomforting way. She pretended not to hear when it noted that he was napping shirtless.

Of _course_ he was napping shirtless. It was summertime, Renji always napped shirtless when the heat index went up. His body was naturally a few degrees warmer than most peoples for some reason, (in winter it had been like having her own private furnace, especially after his reiatsu started to develop).

The voice also noted that sleeping in trees was not the only resemblance Renji Abarai bore with a jungle cat, not only did those tattoos of his resemble tiger stripes criss-crossing his torso, but he had the wiry, lean musculature of one too, all coiled strength and smooth easy motions until something caught his eye then...

She very very much ignored the little voice when it said that she would like to be pounced upon.

_:Completely did __**not**__ just think that,:_ she told herself.

She had used to wrestle around with him and the other boys when they'd been little, fighting amongst each other like puppies, there was absolutely nothing interesting about it then and there wasn't now. He was still Renji. Nothing had changed! To prove it to herself she picked up a nearby pinecone from the floor of the carefully tended little "wilderness" inside the Seireitei and unerringly chucked it at his head.

He started awake with a small flare of reiatsu, but unfortunately did not fall out of the tree. She always thought it was so funny when he did that then complained about it like she was going to feel sorry for him. He woke like a cat too, alert and aware of his surroundings form one second to the next. He looked down, yawning and stretching (no, her stomach had not just done some sort of strange fluttery thing at the sight of all that coiled strength moving and flexing with all the fine tensile control of a snake weaving its body in the air). She held up the little basket of taiyaki that the Kuchiki cook had made too much of darn it, and gave a small wave.

He dropped easily from the tree limb and landed far too lightly for something his size.

"Thought you'd be busy with Kuchiki the Elder today," he said without preamble, his voice sounding gruff and grumpy from having been woken from his nap.

Napping was serious business for Renji, especially during the heat of the day and high summer. Naptime was sacred and he was never his best straight out of it.

"The meeting was called off due to... something that happened."

Her esteemed Older Brother wouldn't even tell her about it, and none of the other Clan Elders had mentioned it at any place where she could over-hear, but she could sense a carefully suppressed excitement rolling through the ranks of the nobility. Even Yoruichi was distracted! She had heard bells peeling out the evening before, both far in the distance to the north and from within the inner Sanctuary of the Kuchiki House, the place where only the Clan Head was allowed to go. She had tried to ask her brother about it, but he had been so abruptly distracted that he had ignored her queries (and of course the rest of the Clan had gladly followed his lead).

"Huh," Renji said, not really interested.

All of his attention was on the cloth-covered little basket she held in her hand. She knew he could smell its contents, Renji was practically quivering like a dog at the end of its leash, being told to "stay" when there was a treat in the offing.

"Is, ah... is that for me?" he asked, his tone going for casual, but failing dismally.

"Well..." Rukia said, enjoying her moment. "The cook made too much, and I happened to remember that you liked these so... I _suppose_, I might have saved a few for you."

"Really?" he said, perking up even more.

He looked like a puppy with the promise of a treat dangled in front of him. The little voice wickedly suggested that before she fed him she should make him lay, roll-over and beg. She squelched the little voice and tried not to blush. Renji was her best friend, she did _not_ just think that about him.

She proffered the little basket of treats smiling, as she watched him all but dive for them. He promptly sat down right where he stood and flung the cover off, grabbing one up and stuffing it greedily into his mouth. He hadn't changed much, at least not when it came to food.

"These are really good!" Renji said enthusiastically. "Man, you sure do get the top shelf stuff at the Kuchiki Manor doncha?"

Naturally," she scoffed automatically, preening a bit at the admiration in his tone. "Elder Brother has only the best food on his table."

"Well, I was right about that, at least," Renji replied around bite of his treat.

Rukia's brow furrowed in puzzlement for a moment, but she decided that she probably didn't want to know. She noted that his left hand and his upper right arm were wrapped in fresh white bandages so naturally she asked

"What happened there?" she pointed to the bandages.

"Morning workout," he said succinctly around bites of his treat.

"Captain Madarame?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"He was a little busy, I had ta settle for the new Third Seat," Renji replied. "He's a quick one, but doesn't have the raw brute strength that Ikkaku brings to th' table. Still, it was a good workout. Unohana told me ta take it easy fer the next few weeks, so I ben doin' only light training."

"How is Zabimaru?" she asked.

As the best friend, she was one of the few who could ask such a personal question of him and possibly get an answer.

"He's..." Renji hesitated. "Up until last night he wasn't talkin' to me, but I swear I saw him in a dream and he was tryin' ta tell me somethin' important, but try as I might now that I'm awake I can't remember what it was."

"Well, whatever's going on with him, at least you know he's not mad at you. I mean, it wasn't your fault that that Espada broke through your bankai's guard."

She saw Renji frown at the reminder of one of the last fights in Aizen's Rebellion. She'd had a tough opponent of her own to worry about so she hadn't actually been able to watch his fight, but she'd heard about it from some of the members of his unofficial fanclub (_all_ the captains and lieutenants had them) and they'd said he'd taken on an what had been thought to be a lower-ranked arrancar, but had turned out to be one of those kinds of fighters that hid their true strength simply because dealing with the politics of the Court of Las Noches hadn't agreed with them. Rather than having Fracions, that particular arrancar had had the ability to create exact clones of himself by siphoning off the power from his enemies attacks. The more and harder a person fought against him, the greater in power and number the foes became. Renji was a powerful and aggressive fighter, but, as with that pink haired freak, he was just the wrong kind of foe to pit against an enemy like that (something that Aizen had no doubt had in mind when he'd sent that particular arrancar out to fight Renji). Renji had managed to kill the tough little bastard, but not before he had wound up facing a miniature army of clones with almost all of his spiritual power drained out of him, his bankai broken, his shikai sealed (due to lack of reiatsu) and his body nearly sliced in half. He'd been laid up in Fourth for weeks.

"Yeah, I guess," he said neutrally.

It was more the tone he took when he didn't agree with her, but wasn't in the mood to start a bicker with her about it either. She could also sense that he was still nursing an injured pride.

_:He looks like he hasn't been sleeping well either,:_ Rukia noticed feeling real concern for him.

His eyes had that darkened, hollowed-out look that heralded a lack of sleep. And there was something about him, a slightly hunched set to his shoulders, that spoke of an odd sort of vulnerability. He also didn't seem to be carrying himself with his usual easy confidence and slightly cocky demeanor. There were signs of real trouble and upset peeking out around Renji's usual tough-guy mask, he was hurting and trying not to show it. Others would be fooled, possibly even her brother would think that Renji was just nursing a wounded pride, but Rukia had known him the longest. She had known him when he'd been a boy, always trying to act tough and hiding his hurt so that he could be strong for the people who mattered to him, strong for her. Renji was suffering and stubbornly not letting anyone see how much.

_:This won't do,:_ she thought to herself.

If left to his own devices, Renji could sulk for weeks. This would probably be the last time they'd get to spend time together for a while seeing as she was going to have meetings to attend to and he was going to be off helping to train new recruits in how to swing their swords in a nice peaceful field somewhere (she had seen the mission document detailing the non-combat training assignment he was sending Renji out on lying out on her brothers desk in his office at home yesterday afternoon). That didn't give her much time at all to get him back on his feet.

"Hey Renji," she said, thinking quickly to herself.

There had to be something she could distract him with. Shopping? Nah, he was a guy and a very very straight one (if even part of his reputation with the nurses in Fourth was to be believed) that wasn't the sort of thing he'd go for. She'd already fed him and, though he certainly seemed to be enjoying his treat, even the food hadn't seemed to have lifted his spirits much. Rukia was still getting that sense of wounded pride from him.

_:Since feeding him hasn't worked, the only thing left that I know always works to cheer him up is to offer him a fight,_: she thought.

She wouldn't exactly throw the fight of course, Renji was at the level where he'd be able to tell if she wasn't meeting him seriously, and that would just make him even more upset, but she could knock him out of his bout of self-pity or whatever was wrong with him a lot quicker this way. After all, she wanted him back in the game and climbing ranks as quickly as possible.

"Yeah?" he asked finishing off the last little pancake.

"How about a match, one on one, you and me?" she suggested.

_:Loser gets to be the winner's slave for a day,:_ the naughty part of her prompted, then added in a few fun ideas of what she could do with him as her slave. Rukia shook her head and tried not to blush; she didn't know _where_ these thoughts kept coming from, perhaps the mortal world with its ready access to manga was a bad influence on her after all.

"No thanks," he mumbled.

Rukia stared in shock with the feeling that the world had just stopped for a moment. Had Renji just turned down a fight? Was the world ending?

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, certain that she must have heard him wrong.

"I'm not feeling up to it right now," Renji said.

Rukia stepped in and felt his head for a fever. Renji was _always_ up for a fight! That was what he _did_ for crying out loud! There must be something really wrong for him to turn down a fight. Either that or he'd heard about her own injury on the field (now fully healed of course) and was trying to go easy on her out of some misguided sense of chivalry. And since when did Renji have chivalry, misguided or otherwise?

"Are you okay?" she asked in genuine concern, grabbing onto his sleeve so he'd look at her.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" was his answer, but something about it rang false.

"If you were really fine, you'd already be out on that field with your sword out," Rukia said astutely. "You've ever been one to turn down a fight Renji, even when it was probably a better idea for you to walk away."

The fight with her brother came brilliantly to mind.

"Well I don't feel like it right now, okay? Geeze!"

Rukia wondered what she was supposed to do about that. Once Renji threw up that wall of manly bluster, he could be stubborn about it. Stubborn was something he had always done really really well too, once he'd set his feet on a path, hell itself wasn't going to make him alter his course. Dumb as a rock and twice as stubborn, no more easily moved than a mountain was, that was Renji Abarai.

_:Something else then I guess,:_ Rukia thought, fishing for... waitaminit...

_:Fishing!:_ she thought brightening right up.

They had done it for food when they'd been children but from what she'd heard around, Renji actually enjoyed it as a pastime too. A nice quiet afternoon alone together, maybe by her captain's pond (which she had permission to use) sounded wonderful.

"Well, I guess that's fine if you don't want to," Rukia said in a conciliatory manner, with that wide smile of hers.

Renji looked simultaneously shocked that she'd given in so easily and wary as to what it meant.

"What're you up to?" he asked suspiciously.

"Up to? How can you be so accusing? I'm never up to something!" Rukia said, affecting an affronted tone of injured dignity even as she grabbed hold of his sleeve and tugged him along after her. He tried to balk at first, so she got behind him and pushed him along. He went, protesting and making inquiries the whole way.

"Honestly, you'd think that with all the history we have, you'd be a little more trusting of me," she said as she delivered a particularly emphatic shove. She was tempted to try to take him by the ear, but the problem was reaching all the way up there to grab it. Renji was already wise to that particular tactic anyway.

"It's because I know you so well that I'm a little wary," he replied, a little teasingly.

Good, that was the first honest smile she'd seen out of him without the promise of food involved.

"Well in this case, I'm up to something fun. I've been cooped up behind four walls in boring meetings, surrounded by nobles all week," she said. "If I don't get some fresh air and sunshine I'm going to go crazy. I want to go fishing. I haven't gotten to do that in such a long time because my honorable brother says that its an activity unbefitting a noble."

Renji's face brightened at the idea just as she'd hoped it would. She didn't know if this would help him get the motivation to start climbing ranks again, but maybe it would help. Besides, she had no objection to spending an uninterrupted afternoon alone with him by the lake. They'd be right out where everyone could see them so her brother couldn't say that they were unchaperoned and if he had a problem with the fact that she was openly consorting with a Reaper that was far below her station in life, she could just simply say that she'd "forgotten" that Renji wasn't a lieutenant anymore. In light of recent circumstances she was reasonably certain that her brother would be willing to let it slide with no punishment more strenuous than a lecture over breakfast.

"Sound's like you've missed out," Renji said, now joining her willingly with his long-legged strides.

She had to take about two or three steps for every one of his. She was tempted to leap onto his back and let him carry her, but she was bending the rules enough as it was, giving into temptation with such a greivous impropriety would result in larger repercussions for her, and possibly for him (and Renji had suffered enough lately).

Thirteenth kept a couple of extra reed-canes and some line and bait about for those who enjoyed fishing in thier off hours but didn't want to buy thier own gear. Renji reached up and tied the line onto the end of her long reed-pole since she couldn't reach it herself while she worked on the hook on the other end.

"I remember fishing in the river out in Hangdog," he said as he worked on his own pole.

Things like string and hooks had been impossible to acquire, even third or fourth-hand out there. Those who were lucky enough to attain any quantity of either, guarded it jealously for it was an easy means of both acquiring food and making a little money. Renji and the others had had to improvise a barbed spear for fishing or learn how to tickle a fish out of the water. Renji had been a terrible swimmer she recalled.

"Me too," Rukia replied, smiling up at him over her shoulder in a teasing manner as she got ready to cast. "I remember that one little boy in particular always seemed determined to make friends with his future food."

Renji made a face at her and lightly tugged her hair in retaliation.

"Brat," he said but she could hear the smile in his voice.

She'd heard from many sources that catching a man was an awful lot like fishing...

Rukia had always had a great deal of difficulty maneuvering the great long poles with the slender line attached, but Renji managed both with a grace and skill that sometimes seemed at odds with enormous, towering frame.

_:Then again, after mastering a sword like Zabimaru, swinging a fishing pole shouldn't be any trouble for him,:_ she thought a little wryly.

Since her brother would never consent to put a common river fish on his elegant table, and the barracks where Renji had his bedroll already had a kitchen staffed and a menu selected (ergo he would not be able to cook it himself) they would strictly being fishing catch and release. Rukia was detirnmined that the catching of fish would not be the only fishing she was going to do. There were a few rumors about Renji that she wanted to know the truth about, so she was fully going to fish for information while she was at it.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a perfect beautiful day, one of those days that was meant to be enjoyed out in the sunshine. The sun was bright in the blue sky with a small scattering of flufy clouds, like sheep grazing in a pasture. It was neither too cold nor too hot and the mild breeze added just the right atmosphere. They sat on a blanket in the shade of a tree, the leaves sheltering them from the sun as they looked out over the surface of the calm lake. Rukia had her feet tucked under her properly, her summer yukata bright and attractive as she stole glances at her friend. Renji was not in the shade, instead, he was topless again, sunning himself on a patch of grass nearby, ostensibly keeping an eye on the fishing rods stuck into the ground but she noted that his eyes were shut. He wasn't asleep, she could tell for his face was not relaxed and though his body was laid out in a boneless sprawl, there was the subtle balance of a napping cat about it; sleeping but ready to move in an instant if the situation warranted. His reiatsu was also not even and steady but rather restless. He was upset about something, but she knew that if she just asked him about it, he'd deny it.

Still, the veiw was good. Like the man who'd taught him a great deal of what Renji knew as a fighter, Captain Madarame, Renji was all corded muscle and tensile strength through his torso and that definitely showed through in the chiseled definition of his chest. Unlike some reapers in her division, Rukia did not fangirl; it was pathetic and undignified, but if a nice veiw was offered to her, she was certainly not above taking the time to enjoy it.

One of the lines shook as the bait on the other end got a nibble. Renji moved as quickly and smoothly as a snake striking to catch the line and pull on it, hoping to pull the fish up. No dice.

"Hn," he grunted, irritated as he pulled the line out of the water and checked the hook. They hadn't gotten the fish and it hadeaten the bait and swum off.

"Sometimes it be that way." she offered, hoping to smooth his scowl.

Renji shruged, and clearly dredged up a small smile for her as he rebaited the hook and easily sent the line back out again. he sat next to her in the shade instead, his long legs stretched out in front of him and the wieght of his chest resting back on his elbows. They sat in companionable silence for a while then Renji said

"I heard your brother's letting you take part in the Council Meetings, that must be exciting for you."

"It's nice to be included in family activities, usually I'm told not to worry about it and everyone else handles everything. I guess it's to be expected because I'm a new comer, but still it always made me feel a little useless and excluded," Rukia said honestly.

She could always talk to Renji about what was on her mind, even if he'd tell her she was being silly and worrying over nothing, he'd at least listen to her and truthfully tell her what he thought. That was more than she could say for a lot of her new family (she still thought of them as new, even though she'd been living inthier house for the last fifty years). She smiled wryly,

"Though in this case, I sometimes wish that he'd decided to handle it himself. Tjose meetings are horribly boring, always going on and on about things and people i don't know or understand really. I know that the only way to learn is by observing it, but it gets pretty confusing awfully quickly."

"A bit of a mixed blessing then, yeah I guess I can see how that is. When I was a lieutenant I was glad about the respect and authority my position gave me, but i wasn't so wild about all the hard work that came with it sometimes."

Aha! An opportunity!

"You must miss it, having your rank that is," Rukia said, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Sometimes," he said neutrally. "I worked hard to get it, so it bothers me that all that effort was in vain. Truth to tell though, i just feel so exhausted lately. Captain Unohana told me to take it easy and normally I'd be ignoring her and training like usual, but lately I can't seem to. I'm not sure what it is but i just don't have the energy lately for it."

"The war was hard on everyone, you just need some time to rest and recover, that's all," she said.

"I guess," he replied uncertainly.

Rukia went from a vague feeling of unease to being downright worried about him. Renji was not and had never been the sort of man to vascilate uselessly about anything. Once he had a goal in mind he went after it and heaven help anything that got in his way. She'd never seen him act uncertain, even if he didn't know what he was talking about, he always said it with such confidence that people wound up believing that he knew what he was doing. Before she'd thought about it, rukia put a hand on his arm and looked over at him

"Renji, what's wrong?" she asked.

She watched as his shoulders tensed and haunched protectively and he instinctively curled up around himself. Her worry deepened, whatever it was that was making him act this way, he must be really upset about it if he was betraying his discomfort so clearly. Usually he'd try to shrug it off and tell her to mind her own business.

"Nah, it's noth-"

"Don't tell me it's nothing," she overrid him quickly. "I've known you too long and too well for that. Tell me."

He clealry debated internally for a long moment, then broke down and told her.

"I miss them," he said.

To her very great surprise Renji didn't bother hiding the world of sorrow behind those words.

"Kira and Momo," he added, to clarify. "I miss them both so much. I mean, we've been friends since the academy and I sort of always thought we'd just... I mean, we even became lieutenants together. We've ben something of a set for decades. It's not that I don't have friends but, I just miss them, that's all."

She watched with empathic sorrow for Renji as he struggled to find the words to express his grief, and it was truly greif too, that she could tell right away. renji had always been the tough guy, he lived by the sword and a life of battle had hardened more than his body. You did not make rank in Eleventh by being soft. He had always been something of an alpha male, the street-thug version of a head of the clan; and like the nobility, out on the streets there werer certain standards of behavious expected of people who carved a place out there. Men were expected to be strong, tough stoics who never cried or showed any sign of anything that could be interpreted as weakness or vulnerability (it was the same for women, but to a lesser extent). Renji had played the rold expected of him perfectly, even Rukia had only rarely glimpsed what went on beneath the surface.

I miss them both, y'know," he said, for a rarity not bothering to hide the sorrow and pain in his voice. It was very rare for Renji to be so open about a vulnerability, even with her.

Like her, he had grown up on the mean streets of District 78, but unlike her Renji was a man and had been the defacto leader of thier small gang-family, the rule for someone in that kind of position (and doubly for a male) was that you never exposed anything that could be perceived as a weakness. Any boy that was going to have any measure of success in that world had to adhere rather strictly to a certain mode of conduct; strenth, stocism and a willingness to beat the crap out of anyone that pushed against thier pride was what got respect out there. Strength out there meant survival, and if you were weak, that meant you were food. In order to protect her and the others Renji had to be perceived as strong at all times. Even in those times when she had been weak with sorrow and loss, Renji had stoicly stood against the loss and gotten done what needed to be done. There had been little time for sorrow for him and he certainly never actually talked about it with her. It was one of a long list of subjects that went unspoken about between them... it was simply understood.

"I know you were always very close," she sympathized with him, reaching out to lay her hand over top of his.

Renji seemed slightly discomforted with the contact and her obvious sympathy; usually that sort of thing was what would make his inner sheilds of manly pride and stoicism slam up faster than a window shutter in a storm. However, this time he did not move himself away or tell her not to worry so much about it and that he was feeling just fine... which meant that his sorrw was so acute that he was forced to acknowledge even to himself that he was not just fine.

"I mean, it's not like I don't have other friends," he went on, partly to himself and partly to her. "It's just that me an' Momo an' Kira, well, we were... a set, a team, y'know? They were my best buddies. Ever since that first time together when we all stood back to back with Hisagi-sempai, I knew there was something special about us and the way we fit together. It was like we each completed the others in our own ways. Momo's kind gentle nature always seemed ta cool off my rough temper, and Kira's sensible intelligence had ways of expressing what I'd picked up on but never seemed able to say just right. I dunno what I brought to the set, maybe a few good laughs..."

He said this with a small self-depeciationg smile but Rukia knew exactly what he'd brought to their set; she'd seen it for herself all those times when she'd looked on in secret in and around the Soul Reaper Divisional barracks during public events, watching with envy as they were easily friends and having a good time while she was forced by her position as a Kuchiki to remain aloof and in her own little box with no friends. She'd seen Renji's easy, good-natured charm and instinctive leadership ability drag them out of thier own shells, just as he had once dragged her out of hers. With a wide, sharp smile and a one-armed manly glomp around Kira's shoulders he'd pulled him out of his perpetual mire of self-doubt and into a form of confidence and self-pride that made it easy for the young man to display his razor-sharp mind. With a few joking words and a light poke or two, he had turned Momo's attention away from what everyone else thought of her (and pleasing her captain) and made her consider her own worth and strength since it so well complimented theirs. Renji had always been able to do that, even when he'd been a little brat. Rukia had liked to play at being the leader of thier little de-facto family, mainly because she was so much smarter than Renji, but when it came down to real leadership ability... he won out of her without a contest and always had. It had often irritated her and sometimes still did. He wasn't very bright, but what he lacked in brains he'd always made up for in strength and charisma.

"That's not true," Rukia said.

It irked her a little to be forced to admit it out loud, but this was the first time in decades that she had the opportunity to really be there for him in a rare time when he was hurting. She missed thier bond, and for so long she'd thought it had been lost forever; maybe she was being selfish but this felt like an opportunity to her, and it was one she didn't want to miss.

"You were a really good friend to them. You were there when they needed a strong shoulder to lean on, always trying to cheer them up and urge them to pick up carry on and triumph in your own clumsy way."

"How'd you know that?" Renji asked, looking at her in partial awe, like she had some kind of telepathic gift or something.

"Duh, silly," she said. "It's because you always did the same for me."

Renji looked down, instincively trying to hide his small real smile (because a Rukon male never allowed it to show when he was really happy) and tried to change the subject.

"I still feel like there's more I coulda done," he admitted. "I mean, I saw the way Kira changed after he became that guy's Lieutenant. I saw the way he was getting tangled up in himself, the way he started to always doubt and second-guess everything. I tried to keep telling him that he was worrying too much. An' all along that Gin Ichimaru was twisting him up in subtle ways and I didn't know how ta stop it."

Rukia mentally shook her head. That Renji had picked up on something like that at all was a bit surprising, that he hadn't known how to stop it but still had done his best was not so shocking.

"I could've done more if I'da known how ta say the right words," Renji said in self-recrimination.

"I'm sure you did the best you could," she tried to soothe him.

"And it wasn't good enough," Renji replied.

:That's Renji for you,: she thought to herself.

He had always been twice as hard on himself than he was on anybody else. Most of the time she considered it both her duty and a pleasure to smack some sense into him. That was how she was so practiced at it by the time Ichigo had come along... she'd had an entire childhood full of practice at dealing with a young, stubborn domineering little fighter who always pushed themselves past the limit of what anyone would consider sane and sensible. Caution was not only a closed book to him, but a burned and buried book as well.

:It's no wonder those two are always at logger-heads any time they meet,: she thiought in amusement. :They're so similar that it's natural they'd be able to understand each other and equaly natural that they wouldn't like each other.:

No body really liked having a person around who always reminded them so much of themselves... it simply brought out all the traits within themselves that they really didn't like. She'd only seen them truly agree on two things; that there were people in thier lives that it was worth sacrificing anything to protect, and that that kid Asano deserved an ass-kicking just for being too annoying to be left to himself.

"I doubt they felt that way about it Renji," Rukia replied, deciding for a change to talk with him instead of smacking him around like usual. After all, she was wearing this nice kimono and it was such a peaceful day, she found herself unusually reluctant to pick a fight with him. Besides, there was something else she was after...

"I'm sure that if you or anyone else had asked them, they would have said that they were always glad that you were such a good friend to them."

"If I'm such a good friend to them, why wasn't I able to save them when I was right there too? Why am I alive and they are not? I should've been able to do something more..."

Rukia knew from listening in on the report that Captain Unohana had given to her brother about Renji's medical status after the battle that there was nothing he could have done on or off the battlefeild. His reiatsu had been drained by his fight with the Espada-level arrancar tot he point where his sword would not shikai, let alone bankai. He had been wounded almost to the point of immobility fending off all of that thing's clones and yet he had still thrown himself into the next battle against an implacable foe without so much as a thought to his own safety. He had tried his best. It's not like he was Ichigo, the original sheath to the Hougyoku, who grew a new super-power everytime he needed it; Renji was just Renji, a warrior who lived with a set of limitations, and tried his hardest to overcome them or work around them, not for his own sake but for the sake of his fellow warriors.

"We both know that there was nothing more you or anyone else in your position could have done. You were fighting past your limits already. Momo and Kira both lived and died doing what they felt was right, and you know you'd be the first to tell anyone else the same thing if they asked."

"That's true, and I have. I am proud of the way they died when they went out. It was a good death if they had to have one. It doesn't make it any easier though, knowing that they're gone. I hope... I hope thier next incarnation is a good one."

It was the Soul Reaper equivalent of the human's saying that they hoped thier loved one went to heaven (or whateer equivalent they had). To hope for the one they cared about to have a life free of troubles and sorrows.

"I'm sure it'll be the best," Rukia said, squeezing is hand reassuringly. Well, part of his hand anyway, she'd forgotten just how big his hands were, just like the rest of him. His hands were large and warm, the square palms rough and calloused from holding a sword. Rukia tried her best to ignore the strangely warm feeling trying to flush her face as she left her hand to linger in his under the pretense of comforting him.

There was something she'd wanted to ask about for the longest time and had never quite managed to find the right time or pretext to subtly pry the information out of him. But they were more or less on the subject...

"I'm sure you'll miss them here. After all, you always spent so much time with them," Rukia said, trying to figure out a way to delicately phrase it so she might get an answer she was looking for without Renji realizing what question she was really asking.

"I know that Kira and you and Hisagi were always a trio that could be counted on to tie one on... or several."

Some of the rumors and stories of their drunken exploits, real or imagined, were the stuff of legend among the soul reapers. But that wasn't really the friend she was interested in knowing about.

"And I'm sure you'll miss Momo too..."

But how much would he miss Momo?

Rukia had been in and around the 13th squad barracks bathouse enough to keep up on all the Soul Reaper gossip (for that was where it happened, and no-one gossiped like no-rank girls of thirteenth; if there was a rumor, no matter how slight, of any sort going around (and especially ones about the upper level officers) those girls would have heard it, would repeat it, and then happily rate the rumor and speculate about it.

In her time listening to bathouse gossip one of thier favorite topics was about upper level officers and who they might or might not have thier eye on. Momo Hinomori was a favored subject, mainly because she was well-liked and seemed to have so many possibilities. (No, Rukia was not jealous of her!) Most rumors (after Aizen's treachery was known) paired her with her childhood friend, Captain Hitsugaia, but there had been equally strong rumors to suggest Kira as a possible match for her, and there were some silly girls out there who thought that Renji had been caught in a one-sided infatuation with her... and worse there were those who excitedly proposed a love-triangle with Kira and Renji! It was true that Renji Kira and Momo had always been close, but she did not think that they were that close. Still, Rukia had to know if Renji might not be carrying a torch for his lost comrade.

It was something of a concern for her, for physically at least, Momo Hinamori and herself were not without their similarities. They were both petite and on the tiny side, thier builds and features were somewhat similar; dark hair, large doe-like eyes. Hinamori had made it to lieutenant along with Kira and later on Renji, so there was a superiority of rank when it came to acknowledged strength there that Rukia worried about. Did Renji see Momo as being more of his equal than he saw Rukia? It wasn't a threat now, of course, but Rukia now had to contend with the possibility that she might have to fight a ghost... a person was always more perfect in one's memories than they were in real life. Momo was pretty close to being the perfect doll-like model of a woman as it was (much to Rukia's secret annoyance). She was kind, and delicate, strong and yet with just the right of vulnerability that would make a man want to protect her... and Renji was already notoriously protective. Was part of his grief more than just the grief of a person separated from his friend, or did it bleed over into the territory of a man grieving for a woman he had loved and lost?

After all, Rukia couldn't think of any other reason why a man like Renji would stay single. She'd listened around in the bathhouse in 13th, and even after his demotion it was universally agreed by all women present, unattached or otherwise, that as a potential husband material, Renji earned top marks. When he'd been a lieutenant he had been tough but fair. He'd been kind in his own gruff way to his subordinates, training them and offering to tutor them in small groups to work on a skill that they were unable to grasp. His office door had always been open when he was in to hear the woes and concerns of his subordinates. He had been and still was very personable and well-liked. He was patient when training a new recruit and concerned for thier well-fare and well-being. All of that, the girls said pointed to his being potentialy an excellent father someday. He treated women well, it was said (though where those rumors came from Rukia would dearly have liked to know!). Added to that was the fact that anyone who had been around the Squad Halls for any length of time in the past year and cared to time it would have seen him practicing with his shirt off (and for some, it was the highlight of thier day) so the fact that he had a body that was made of yum was a well-established fact.

A body she was seeing right now in it's usual state of half-dress sprawled out like a lazy tiger in the sunshine. Rukia took the time to mentally weigh her own assesment of him against what those bath-house girls were always slavering about... Strong arms good for holding a woman as well as swinging a sword, definitely check. Broad shoulders? Yep. Something sexy about his neck? Yeah, sort of actually. Ripping pectorals and more than a six-pack? uh-huh. His hakama hid his butt and legs and the only one she knew of who'd caught him in a loincloth and was willing to share about it (the nurses of fourth had this doctor-patient confidentiality rule) was Rangiku Matsumoto and she was rather too enthusiastic about the subject. Rukia often got the feeling she was being teased by the older woman. Those tatoos of his did definitely add something... They weren't distracting from the whole picture but instead seemed to add to and accentuate his physique.

Female gossip in the bathouse agreed that, sure he had a few rough edges, and a Squad Eleven tendency to love fighting, but since he was a warrior that could be over looked, especially since it kept that amazing physique of his in top condition. He had a lot to offer, and there were a number of female reapers, both fresh from the academy and veterans of several years, who were eagre to secure his advantages for themselves. While bathing in the Squad bath-house she had been a silent witness to a number of imagined campaigns to gain his attention (ranging from the demure to the downright scandalous) idle speculation (there were some who thought that he and Kira or he and Shuuhei might be swordmates and simply chose to keep hier relationship private) and outright sighings and moanings of admiration and what some of those women might do with him if trapped alone in a broom closet or somesuch. The conclusion that she and many of the others had reached was that a man like that would not contenet himself to be single unless there were a good reason for it, and the only thing most could reason was that his affections were already bestowed somewhere. Momo Hinomori, due to proximity and familiarity, had been decided upon as the most likely candiate. Rukia was eaten alive with curiousity.

"I know you and Kira were always best friends," she started. "And then there's Momo of course. You must really miss her."

"She always made sense," Renji agreed easily. "She never talked down to me and she always encouraged me and Kira to do our best."

Rukia felt a small stab of guilt mixed with a twinge of jealousy at the comment, which had the effect of reminding her of all the times when she had talked down to Renji and belittled his skill at Kido or called him an idiot. Granted, that was how thier friendship worked, but when compared to how he had to veiw Momo, she probably came off second-best. Rukia was notedly stinting in her praise of him, the time she'd found out about his big promotion she had ragged him mercilessly about it, singing fuku-taicho-dono~ and giving him greif. She'd bet Momo had smiled at him and congratulated him sweetly with that kind and gentle smile she had.

"Kira always seemed to have a brotherly sort of affection for her... how about yourself?"

Here it was, the moment of truth. Now that there was no danger of word about Renji's possible feelings for Momo getting back to the recipient of them, he would be able to admit to them freely or deny them, so if he really had felt for Momo the way everyone else thought he felt for Momo then there was no reason why he wouldn't just say so.

"Yeah, she was like a little sister to me," Renji replied absently as he reached over and tugged on the line to see if he had a nibble. "Back before we found out what Aizen was really like, I was sort of relieved about her feelings for him. Because she was so obviously stuck on him, I thought that here was a proper man for her to love and I wouldn't have to chase off any scoundrels or weaklings who were unworthy of her."

The first part of his answer was promising, the second part could be interpreted a number of ways. Rukia paused to consider while Renji had to rebait the hook yet again.

"Man, these fish in this lake must take thier cleverness from its owner," Renji muttered. "Must be something in the water. This is the third time I've had to rebait the hook cuz they ate the bait right off the hook without getting caught."

"Did you spend a lot of time chasing men off from her?" Rukia pursued.

"Sorta," Renji replied with a shrug, flopping back down in the sun. "At least in the beginning, before she developed feelings for Aizen anyway. Momo was my friend, and I wasn't about to let her get her precious heart broken by some young little tomcat just lookin' fer what he could get. After the first few, they caught on that they might do better ta think twice about thier intentions before makin' a play at her."

Renji sounded rather proud of himself about that one, and Rukia frowned at him for it. Protective yes, and stubborn and domineering as ever. He'd always been a natural born leader, but he could take it a little too far especially with the women in his life. She was very well aware that, before her esteemed older brother came into her life, the other students at the Academy had been warned about toying with her affections or they'd face the wrath of the (somewhat infamous, even then) Renji Abarai.

"You sound like you all but threw her at Aizen," Rukia remarked dryly.

Something niggled a little bit at her. There was something about the situation that felt a bit familiar...

"I wouldn't say threw," Renji said a little uncomfortably. "But ya gotta admit, before we all knew his true colors, Aizen was one of the most respected Captains in the whole Seireitei. Even more respected than yer brother cuz he had seniority and a sorta genial and approachable way about him, like he understood everyones problems and would only be too happy to help you out with 'em. He was the kinda man anyone'd have been proud to support."

Rukia had to nod agreement with that, she was letting her recent experiences of the present color her perception of the situation. In the past, before Aizen had made his true designs known, what Renji said about him was indeed true. Even her brother had sort of liked, or rather, approved of Captain Aizen.

:But he didn't exactly answer the question,: Rukia realized a moment later.

"So you didn't exactly throw her in his path," Rukia brought th econversation back...

There was something important about this, something she needed to know.

"Well... sort of..." Renji mumbled. "It was pretty easy to see that she respected and admired her Captain a lot, it was sort of natural she'd develop a crush on him. I would have cautioned her about letting herself in too deep, but I thought him a proper man for her. He was kind, a model captain, caring, considerate. He seemed to be all that anyone could think to ask for in a man. One who could do well for her..."

Renji mumbled something under her breath and its tone sounded self accusatory, but Rukia hadn't undestood what he'd said.

"I'm sorry what?" Rukia asked, wanting clarification on what he'd said.

"Nuthin'," Renji muttered.

Rukia's thoughts were racing while Renji closed his eyes in the sunshine and waited for the fish to bite. There was something about the situation... Rukia set that thought aside to pursue later as there was already a subject she was interested in pusuing with him.

"I'm not a chick, so I don't really go in fer match-makin' an' all that," Renji mumbled. "But in Momo's case the match was pretty much already made. So I figured that if I didn't discourage her things would just take thier course naturally and she'd be happy."

From his position, considering a the circumstances, it had been a reasonable enough assumtion to make. That still didn't really answer what Renji had felt about encouraging Momo's feeling for her captain. He said he thought of her as a little sister but in Rukia's situation that could be a bit of a double-edged blade, if Renji thought of Momo as a little sister and treated her with such affection anyway, then that could also mean that anything he might feel for Rukia would be lumped in the same category. Time for the important question.

"Well," Rukia said, trying to make her voice sound casual. "What if Aizen hadn't stepped into the picture? I mean, what if Hinamori hadn't developed feelings for someone that was so obviously, back then anyway, a good match for her."

Renji looked at her blankly, so Rukia pressed home her point.

"Would you still have continued to chase guys off from her?"

"Probably," Renji said, looking at her in confusion. "I wouldn't have wanted her to end up with someone who was going to treat her badly or make her unhappy."

Rukia rolled her eyes, amazed, though she knew she probably shouldn't be, at Renji's density. She really was going to have to spell things out for him!

"Renji, you know most people would take you scaring every man you don't like away from her as a sign that you liked her yourself, don't you?"

Comprehension dawned, but slowly.

"Oh! No! Nononono! That's definitely not the way it is, or was," he protested vehemently.

"Is that so," Rukia said, relying a little on that Kuchiki mask she'd developed over the last decade or so to hide her intense interest in his answer.

"I mean, of course I care about her, and if you care about someone, you naturally always want what's best for them but that doesn't mean I thought I was best for her or anything like that."

:Well... that's sort of an interesting answer,: Rukia thought to herself, caught a little off guard by the implications.

She should follow up on this, it seemed important.

"Well if that's the case for Momo, with Aizen and all, I suppose I could see how you'd feel that way," she said carefully. "But you must have at some time felt you were what's best for someone... or don't you think that way?"

Renji clammed up and went back to pretending to nap in the sunshine. Rukia was left feeling very much taken aback. What she was left with was a mystery. His refusal to answer would seem to imply that Renji didn't feel like he was good enough for someone! She'd grown up with Renji so she always thought of herself as the one who knew him the best out of anyone anywhere and at any time. Because of that, Rukia herself sometimes found herself falling into accepting the persona that Renji had developed for himself to make himself more apealing or acceptable to the world he'd fit around him... so much so that she forgot that at least part of it was a mask. She was so accustomed to thinking of Renji as this brash, powerfully confident and oddly charismatic man who made friends wherever he went and never suffered a moment's doubt in himself. He was so much admired and so swaggeringly boastful of his accomplishments that even Rukia forgot that at least part of all of his boasting and hornblowing was a way to build himself up so nobody could drag him down.

The Seireitei was filled to the brim with bluebloods that had pedigrees longer than the yearly Soul Roll, and Renji was not only not noble, not born inside the walls, but rather came from about as far out in the districts as it was possible to get. He had a lot to prove to people who would judge him before they ever knew him. Of course he always seemed confident, he had to because if he showed the least sign of wavering confidence, all of his detractors would pounce on that as the opportunity to tear him down, put him back on the bottom where they felt he belonged.

"Renji," she pressed a moment later. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" he grumbled in irritation.

His reiatsu was still too weak for Rukia to get a read on him like she usually could, but she could read him by his body language alone, he was pretending to be casual but he was too still, had that street-ready pose where he only looked relaxed but he could move at any moment if he wanted to.

"Do you ever feel like you're what's best for someone?"

"Couldn't have been a Lieutenant if I didn't," he muttered, clearly reluctant to answer her.

:And that's not really an answer either,: Rukia thought, beginning to feel irritated with him.

"That wasn't what I was talking about and you know it," she replied, her temper begining to heat up.

"I dunno know what yer on about, woman," he grumbled, his accent thickening a little. "First ya wanna talk about my rank, an' then about Momo."

He looked at her suspiciously.

"Is this some kinda weird, chicky, head-picking thing?"

"Maybe," she said, a little smugly. "We're back to being best friends again, we should talk about these things."

Renji gave her one of his famous flat looks.

"Funny, you don't look nuthin' like my Zabimaru," he said.

"You talk to your Zanpaktou?" Rukia said, trying not to sound like she thought that was the weirdest thing she'd ever heard.

"You don't?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Not... not really," Rukia said. "Sode No Shiraiyuki and I aren't like you and Zabimaru, you two have been almost freakishly close since the Academy."

She recalled scoffing at him as a first year back when he'd told her that he saw a white form in his dream with a deep resonant voice and a rattling hiss. She'd accused him of making things up just to sound special because he was in the advanced classes and she was just a normal student (even though she'd been better at kido than him and more able to read an write!). Renji hadn't done anything really amazing at the Academy like develop a full shikai, so she'd always figured he was just trying to psyche her out. It turned out later that he really had been hearing and communing with his zanpaktou spirit even back then.

"Oh..." he said, his own look saying that he thought her lack of communication with her own blade was the weirdest thing ever. "Well that's... I mean..."

"Sode No Shiraiyuki isn't really much of a talker anyway," Rukia added quickly, feeling a bit defensive. "She's not social like your Zabimaru. She always seems to feel that a person learns a lesson better when they work things out for themselves, she's my partner not my teacher!"

"I don't see why they can't be both," Renji replied.

"Well they can't!" she snapped, suddenly feeling upset with him.

Rukia had a hard time getting to know her Zanpaktou, in fact her progress with the blade could probably be best described as glacial. Forty years with the blade at her side and in only the last decade had Sode No Shiraiyuki deigned to allow her shikai to develop, and even at that, the revelation of the different dances had been excruciatingly slow.

Renji sat back on his heels and looked straight at her, leaning forward and almost seeming to look into her.

"Stop that!" she snapped at him. "You're creeping me out."

"Hmm," was all he replied still looking at her intently, like a cat that had spied something moving in the grass.

"You just made third dance, yeah?" he said curiously.

"Yeah," she asked, narrowly resisting the urge to ask 'what of it?'

"You still fighting yourself?" he demanded, bluntly.

Rukia stared at him in appalled silence. She'd had decades of Kuchiki mask drilled into her from the instant she'd stepped a te into that Noble House, he absolutely should not be able to read her so easily.

:But this is Renji, we're dealing with,: Rukia reminded herself. :I forgot this guy's a savant when it comes to people.:

She was pretty certain that Renji's easy way of handling people was the reason why he'd gotten picked by her older brother for the second seat in Sixth Squadron. It shouldn't surprise her as much as it did that he'd still pick up on the lingering remnants of her previous inner torment. For the longest time Rukia had not been able to shikai her blade because she'd hated herself so much for what she'd done to her lieutenant. She'd literally had to fight herself first before she could even begin to try to communicate with Sode No Shiraiyuki.

"As it so happens," Rukia said with an attempt to save face by using her haughtiest tone. "I am not. Sode No Shiraiyuki and I have been growing by leaps and bounds together ever since..."

She looked back over at the gleaming white tower the stabbed up at the sky like a blaming finger from the top of Execution Hill, even now it was still hard to even think about that time and that place without a shiver.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear it. Everyone has thier own way of learning and thier own pace, no point in should-ing anybody, especially yourself. Just you remember that, Rukia," he said seriously.

"Idiot, I got it already," she grumbled trying to push down on the sudden upwelling of affection.

Renji always thought about the people he cared about, though because he always had to be such a male about everything he had a hard time expressing himself.

"What about you?" she asked. "You're going to be on medical leave for a while until all of your reiatsu grows back. Lieutenant Kotetsu said you're even weaker than I was after all the fuss at the Sokyouku, though you have this freakish ability to regenerate. Are you going to keep working with Zabimaru?"

"Idiot," he said flatly. "Are you kidding me? We just got bankai a month ago an' I still got a lot ta learn about it. As soon as we've recovered ain't nothing gonna hold us back."

"So," she said with carefully feigned casuality. "I suppose you'll be climbing ranks again."

Renji's mouth quirked to one side as though he were thinking about it and wasn't certain of the decision.

"Renji?" she pressed lightly, feeling a little uncertain.

"Actually," he said quietly with unusual hesitence for him. "I was thinking about maybe taking a little time off."

There was a surprised pause on Rukia's end as she took a moment for this unusual (and unwelcome) news to sink in.

"Oh. I um, that's... that's not really like you," she managed.

"I wasn't kiddin' when I said I was tired Rukia," he said softly. There was a sorrowful sort of almost desperation in his tone. "I'm tired all the time now, an' I can't shake it. I've tried. I can't get in touch with Zab's because my reiatsu's all burned out for now, I can't even light a candle. I feel like I swam upstream all the way out to district eighty and back all of the time. When I drag myself out of bed that's literally what it feels like, it feels like I'm fighting gravity the whole way. Even the simple excersizes leave me feelin' wore out."

Rukia looked at him in surprize and concern.

"Even when I get back up ta full strength I'm not sure I wanna climb ranks right away," he continued. "I'm just really tired all the time and I think... There's a lotta stuff that comes with being Seated, much less upper tier. It's a lotta work, a lotta responsibility, everyone always looks to you ta solve the problem, find the way, save the day. I'm usually cool with that, but I just think that right now I need ta take some time an' get out from under everything."

Rukia was disappointed to hear his announcement and immedidiately felt guilty for feeling that disappointment because she knew that it stemmed from her own selfish motives. She wanted Renji to go right back to being an upper level officer because she wanted to have him for herself instead of simply wanting what was best for him. She had always been leaning on him for strength (back when she'd been able to) and had never thought of herself as being strong enough for him to lean on in return.

:Not that I think he ever would, not really anyway,: she thought.

He had been the one to defend her in Hueco Mundo before they'd parted ways, telling Ichigo to stop babying her or trying to protect her because he was actually insulting her as a warrior on the field. She had never been so happy in all of her life to hear something because she'd always thought that he veiwed her as not being his equal. She might have the better kido skill but Renji was by far the better actual fighter of the two of them, he'd been a natural at zanjutsu in the Academy, in fact he'd been upper class and she'd been normal class before the Kuchiki's had come along. Renji had had his shikai for decades, almost (she'd heard) right out of the Academy, and he'd climbed ranks in Eleventh (which was where they kept all of thier really scary fighters) and been taken by Third Seat Madarame as a protege. He'd done all of this on his own, without needing anyone.

:Is it any wonder I sometimes think I must have been holding him back,: she thought a little sadly. :Even if he pretends we're equals I still don't feel that way yet, and how can I? He's still so far beyond me in terms of martial experience, he could probably march right out onto a battlefield today and clear up every Hollow in it.:

She'd made it to Third Dance, but she knew that there was still a lot for her to learn about her shikai before she was ready to even think about attempting Bankai, if she'd ever be ready at all. Bankai was still rare in Seireitei.

:Come to think of it... Renji's the only unseated officer in all of Seireitei beside's Ichigo that possesses a Bankai,: Rukia thought, a little amused at the inconguity of the sitation.

If her brother ever cut him loose from Sixth, there would be some pretty stiff competiton over which Squad would get to snap him up.

"Then you should take your own advice," she said after a long pause. "Take your time to heal up properly, don't push yourself too hard or you'll just have to take longer to do it right again if you injure yourself."

"Yes ma'am," he said lightly with one of his rare soft smiles, the kind that looked like he was smiling only for her and that made her heart beat a little faster. Rukia tried to ignore the little flutter she got in her chest, but she still couldn't help worrying about him. She knew how stubborn Renji could be, especially if his stupid male pride got in the way.

"I mean it Renji," she said seriously, taking one of his large rough-skinned hands in two of her smaller ones and making him look over at her to prove he was paying attention.

"Sure, sure," he said, clarly intending to brush off her concerns. Typical.

"Don't you sure, sure me," she replied, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself," she commanded, because she knew better than to sound like she was asking him. Asking to Renji (and most males in rukongai) meant that it could be ignored when it became inconvenient because the request came from a weaker party.

"I'll be out in the field, Rukia. You know how it goes sometimes. I'll do my best to rest up, but I just don't think that it's going to be an option. Seireitei's short of upper-level personel right now on account of how many we lost to the war."

"I don't care what Seireitei's short of," Rukia replied. "Captain Unohana's placed you on medical restriction. As your Captain, it's nii-sama's responsiblity to see you're held to that restriction whether you like it or not."

An unreadable look passed behind Renji's eyes, but the look on his face said plainly enough that he didn't think much of that medical restriction... or how hard her brother might try to keep him on it.

"I mean it," she said seriously. "I know you're eagre to be back at it, and i know that's usually the way you play it, but you said yourself that this time is different. I want you take this seriously. Don't just brush it off, you could really hurt yourself."

"Huhn..." Renji said, a speculative look entering his face. "That seems a little odd though, considering."

"What is?" Rukia asked curiously.

"Nah, it's probably nothing," he shrugged. "This medical leave thing is really more of a suggestion anyway."

"No it's not," Rukia replied. "Captain Unohana has complete autonomy with regards to medical matters in Seireitei, even over and above the individual squad autonomy."

Each individual squadron was like its own little fiefdom, with the Captain of the division having near complete autonomy withint thier own demesne. None of the squads was supposed to interfere with the running of the other squads, with the exception of the Head Captain. A captain of one division could not dicipline or even interferre with the subordinates of another division, it was expected that he would lodge a complain with that divisions Captain and that Captain would deal with his own subordinate. Hearing that a Captain of one of the divisions could interferre with another went against the grain.

"That means that if she gives an order about a Reapers physical or mental well-being in particular and the Captain of the squad countermands that order, it has the same effect as that captain having disobeyed a command from the Head Captain."

It wasn't quite treason, that would only have been breaking one of the central laws of Seireitei or disobeying a direct command from Central 46, but it was certainly not a wise move. Renji would never want to be in any Captain's shoes if they decided to go against Captain Unohana. Disobeying the Captain Commander might earn you a retaliatory whoopin' but Unohana was a woman, and women often decided they were gonna be Civilized about things, when women got all Civilized things got scary. Particularly when Unohana herself was already scary.

"Captain Zaraki never seemed to much listen to what she says," Renji pointed out.

"Captain Zaraki is also crazy," Rukia replied.

"Don't call my old Captain crazy!" Renji snapped defensively, the strong loyalty he still felt for his old division rearing its head, even around Rukia.

"Whatever, we both know it's true," Rukia brushed it aside.

Renji let it be since he couldn't say with all honsety that she wasn't entirely right in questioning Captain Zaraki's sanity. He closed his eyes to nap in the sunshine a little more, not really caring if the fish were biting.

Rkia took the long silence to go over what she'd learned. The battle had weakened him more than any other fight before him ever had, including the once he'd fought against her brother. He didn't plan to start climbing ranks again right after he recuperated and that was unusual but not terribly surprising given his circumstances. He probably just needed time. Most importantly, Renji wasn't carrying a torch for Momo Hinamori but he lumped her in the little sister catagory so there was a large chance that Rukia herself was in there right along with her, in essence there was a large possibility that Renji didn't see her as a woman either.

:And I'd have no idea how I'm supposed to go about changing his mind on the matter,: Rukia thought a bit glumly. :I'll bet if my older sister were still around, she'd have some good advice for me.:

Rukia had always sort of been "one of the boys" and her list of female friends was practically nonexistent. She didn't have any women among the Reapers or the nobles or even her own servants she could really call a friend or go to for advice on this sort of thing. Her first real female friend had been Orihime, and she was firmly over on the mortal side of the spectrum. So she didn't have anyone she could really talk about this sort of thing and she'd slit open her own stomach before she'd ever bring the subject up with her brother. Rukia had never really felt any longing to connect with the mysterious sister she hadn't even known about until recently, but in this case it would have been nice to have a woman to talk to.

:I suppose that in the end I'll figure something out,: Rukia encouraged herself. :If he's stayed single this long I guess it can wait a bit longer, since it seems I don't have any competition to worry about. Renji's got enough on his plate right now without me pressuring him to rise in ranks so he can be a suitable match to me. Besides, he'll take a while to lick his wounds, while he's busy concentrating on that, I can study up on the feminine wiles thing and figure out a way to get him to notice me as a woman.:

It was amusing to her the way Ichigo was as dense as two short planks when it came to his noticing orihime's feelings towards him, though anyone else who could see and had a modicum of sense or skill with observation had twigged to it right away. It was vastly less amusing to her when she was the one having to be on the receiving end of said density.

:No wonder those two either get along too well, or fight all the time,: Rukia thought to herself. :There's nothing in the world that annoys so much as someone who reminds you too much of yourself.:

In the end, they didn't catch anything, and the worms ate most of their bait, but Rukia hadn't been angling to eat fish that night anyway. So far as she was concerned she'd gotten what she wanted out of the exursion. She still worried about Renji's health, but she had every confidence that, even if her brother was occupied with affairs of state Sixth Squadron would take care of its own. Even if it didn't, renji had always been both though enough and well liked enough to manage just fine left to himself. She'd have to put her faith in his ability to handle things. 


End file.
